


At Sea with Cynics

by Rexxy



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Enjolras is the Captain, Grantaire is in the navy, M/M, Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8349469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rexxy/pseuds/Rexxy
Summary: Enjolras is a pirate Captain trying to rid the world of the control of society with his crew and then he meets navy sailor Grantaire during one of his schemes. Unfortunately it's not in a fitting circumstance and he either has to leave him behind to take blame for his doings or take him back to his ship. That's how he ended up with Grantaire passed out in his cabin, tied to the bed, with half of the French navy out to get him.





	1. The Ball

Grantaire roused from his resting at the sound of gunshots and shouting on deck and with a deep, long-suffering sigh got up from his bunk and trudged to the cabin door, kicking the half full bottle of whisky under the bed as he passed. On his way up the stairs, he buttoned up his coat and straightened his clothes, then shifted his small gun from where it had been digging into his side in an uncomfortable position for the best part of an hour. When he got on deck, the sight that greeted him was different to what he expected to say the least.

The shouting and gunfire, it seemed, had been celebration. On the deck, on his knees and bound by metal cuffs was a man with dark, messy hair. His clothes were baggy and comfortable-looking, which Grantaire couldn’t help but envy. He walked slowly round to the front of the man and found a hateful glance casted his way as well as at the other men on his crew. This man was clearly a pirate who was having a bad day. Grantaire would have pitied him, if he had the capacity to believe there was anything better for the sort who believed in freedom in this world. His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a loud shout for people to get out the way by Captain Javert, as he pushed his way through the crew until he stood in front of the prisoner. 

“What is your name?” Grantaire, as ever, was unphased by the cruel tone Javert directed at the prisoner, but most men winced a little at the gruff shout.

The prisoner looked up and Grantaire was impressed by the handsome face that looked up to the Captain in defiance. “Courfeyrac. Most people call me Courf for short. It’s not very creative I’ll admit but it’s practical as any oth-“

He was cut off by a brief but painful slap from the Captain across his cheek and sat back on his heels afterwards, smirking. “Not shy are you? I admire a man who’s bold. Go on, do it again,” Courfeyrac demanded, his eyes never leaving Javert’s. Grantaire gave a little chuckle at that, though the captain never heard him, too absorbed with being insulted.

“How dare you talk to me like that, you disgusting little miscreant.”

“Ouch! That hurt my feelings, now we’re both in the wrong.” 

“Shut up!” Javert decided by this point that talking was not going to get him anywhere. Grantaire could tell by the resignation that passed over his features. He had been in the job too long not to tell when someone was going to make trouble for him. Instead, he turned to his crew and held his head high. “Tonight we dock back in France, as you all know. This man will be taken and kept prisoner there until he can be put on trial and hanged.” There it is, Grantaire thought. There wasn’t so much as a wild ‘possibly’ thrown in there. No of course not. Not for someone different. Never. He will have a trial and he will be hanged and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. What did surprise him however, was the lack of response from the victim to be. Not a trace of fear overtook him. If anything he looked somewhat smug. After addressing the crew with his blunt statement, Javert turned back to Courfeyrac and looked down on him with distain. “You will be held in my cabin for the remainder of the journey. I am the only one that can deal with scum like you.” He then ordered two men to drag Courfeyrac to his cabin where he was to sit and wait, trapped amongst books and schedules and the such. As he watched the retreating form of the pirate he smiled, and was taken aback when the man turned around to look at him then winked.

 

…………………………………….

 

The ball was crammed full of people and Grantaire almost felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he was used to the feeling to the point where it was commonplace and he’d be lost without it. He was sat by himself at the luxurious bar, holding a glass of vintage wine. He had already been asked to dance (and declined) two times by women looking for a navy husband to live off his wealth and he was already bored. He was idly tapping his fingers against the polished wooden bar surface when a male voice talking startled him. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself very much.”

He turned to find the source and was faced with what he could only describe as physical perfection. The man stood leaning towards him was tall and held himself proudly. His suit was fitted beautifully to show off his toned physique and his face. Oh his face. Crystal blue eyes shone with a sparkle of passion and soft, pink lips curved into a confident smile. His cheeks were dusted slightly red in a natural blush and all of his aristocratic and handsome features were framed by curly golden blonde hair that looked soft to touch and fun to pull. “By God what have I ever done in my life time to afford me the audience of DaVinci’s muse himself?”

The man chuckled deeply and moved himself closer to Grantaire, though why he was at the bar, he couldn’t tell, because there was no alcohol in his grasp. “I’m afraid I’m a little out of his time range. I’ll just have to find myself another artist.” He smiled flirtatiously and Grantaire raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“What is your purpose here, Apollo?”

“Apollo?” The man asked, with what Grantaire could tell was feigned confusion.

“Apollo. Seems fitting a name as any since you haven’t provided me with one. I’m Grantaire by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you.” The man lifted a hand for Grantaire to shake, which he only took and kissed the top of, at which the blonde rolled his eyes. “You’re quite forward for a reserved gentleman.”

“I never made any such claim.”

“You must be, being a man of the navy.”

“Oh dear what gave it away? Do tell so I can rid myself of it immediately.”

“Do you not pride yourself on it?”

“I do not pride myself on anything. Arrogance is not an attractive quality I find.” The blonde smiled in agreement at that. The way the left side of his mouth quirked up and revealed small laughter lines made Grantaire’s insides tingle a little. “So, I’m an established sailor, what is your profession?”

“I would hardly call a politicians son a profession.”

“For such a title I’ve not seen you around often.”

“It’s not really my scene. All a bit too pretentious if you ask me, I’m more inclined to adventure and challenge.”

“Well there’s plenty of it to face so at least you’ll not have a hard time finding it.”

“More to find, more to change.” Grantaire huffed a laugh at that. “What?”

“You think you can change it? This world is but a never-ending burden as it has been since the dawn of time, or at least until humanity plagued it.” Grantaire took a long sip of his drink and watched the slow anger rise in the blonde. It was unusual for someone to get so easily riled by the words of the drunkard, but it was something Grantaire was swiftly finding he liked. Instead of an outburst though, he was met with a slow sigh and a fake smile.

“Quite. What may I ask brings you to this conclusion? When have you ever seen a free man truly helpless?”

“Just today there was a pirate caught on my ship, by himself. Not another crew member in sight. Seems he had been captured trying to sail to shore. He wished to most likely re-join a crew with similar ideals and for what? To be captured and hanged?”

“How exciting. Where is he now, this prisoner? Can I see him?”

“Why would you want that? It would be rather unprofessional of me.”

“What if I say please?” The man had a cheeky grin that Grantaire decided he’d very much like to see more of.

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He’s being held in the basement of this building with a door only the captain has the key to.” He lied, instinctively brushing his hand over the pocket where he kept the key himself. He was trusted with it, as the guard of the room. He had only slipped away for a few minutes before he had been intercepted by the beautiful god standing before him, and it was only now that the situation did seem unusual. 

“That’s a shame. Well, how about you and I go and find some excitement of our own, then?” The Blonde stepped forward and took Grantaire’s drink from him, replacing it with his hand and pulling him away from the bar and into the main floor. It was a bad idea. If Javert caught him off duty, he’d have his head, but one dance could not hurt. Also, there would be an endless amount of staring if two men started to dance together. To start off, Grantaire’s hand was lead to the man’s shoulder, meaning he was left to be the one who wasn’t leading as the man put his arm around Grantaire’s waist. There was an immediate hush around them, but the blonde didn’t seem to care as he led Grantaire into the dance. “Tell me Grantaire, why do you believe the world is so hopeless?”

“The same reason we are the only ones dancing within a 20 foot radius of each other. The world cannot and will not accept change, it’s just not human nature I’m afraid. I am a firm believer that one should live the life bestowed on them, for there is nothing else in the world but that. A set path. We’re born, we live, we get a job, we’re discriminated against, we’re hated, then we die.”

“Is it not nights like this that make life worth living? Forgive me, sir, but I find your cynicism rather off-putting. Where there is pain there is opposing comfort, where there is discrimination there are opposing societies and cultures which are beautiful if you’d bother to look into them or perhaps join them in their plight. Then above all, where there is hate…” He pulled Grantaire closer to him so they were pressed completely together as they danced, earning them a few scoffs and more glares, and then said lowly into Grantaire’s ear. “There is love.” They swayed along to the song perfectly with each other, and Grantaire was almost enjoying himself, until another man on the floor bumped them and they stumbled together as they were pressed close and fell to the floor in a heap.

“Oh I’m terribly sorry!” Said the man, seeming genuinely apologetic. He first helped up Grantaire, and then the blonde, who took his hand and dusted off his jacket once he was up. The other man then hurried off, but Grantaire’s attention was soon brought back to the blonde as he sauntered up and patted down his suit. They then continued to dance as if there was no interruption and it lasted longer than it probably should have, considering Grantaire had a job to do. Eventually though, the third song faded and they parted. “It’s about time I finished up this dance. Father will be terribly worried if I don’t get back home. It’s been a pleasure, Monsieur.” Grantaire nodded politely and watched with mild disappointment at the retreating figure of his dancing partner. He stood for a moment, still revelling in the feeling and then walked back to his post and reached for the key in his pocket only to find it was not there. He was filled with immediate panic and patted down all of his pockets in case he’d just put it in the wrong place and when he came out with nothing he let out a frustrated grunt and tried to just open the door, which to his surprise and horror opened to an empty room. The horror didn’t last long though, as a hand holding a chemical covered cloth snaked around his mouth and he passed out.


	2. Held Hostage

“So, you took your time with our little naval officer.” Combeferre said while they were rushing around the deck to get the sails prepped.

Enjolras huffed a laugh. “He’s not a bad dancer, I’ll give him that.” He barked a few orders out to the rest of the crew and went to take his place at the wheel, Combeferre following and leaning on the wood in front of the wheel, facing his Captain. It was then that Courfeyrac came up to them and smiled at Enjolras in a way that said he was certainly going to interfere.

“I think you like him.” There it is.

“Don’t be so childish. I haven’t got time for liking anything, especially not a man such as that.”

Courfeyrac nodded and then grinned. “I guess that’s why you’re keeping him in your cabin? Why you’re risking having the French navy hunt us down like heathens?”

“He’s unconscious it’s not like I’m keeping him there as a whore, and I didn’t think killing him was the best option either. This way, we leave no one behind to tell what happened and when they eventually figure out that it was us, we have leverage. Besides, there was no point in letting him be punished. Unlike us ‘heathens’, he seems, oddly, like a good enough sort.”

“But not good enough for you?”

Enjolras made a frustrated noise and leaned forwards onto the wheel as the ship slowly pulled away from the harbour. “Stop it. That’s not what I meant. Why are you pushing this, Courf? You don’t even know what he’s like. From the information I’ve gathered from experience he’s a common sailor that drowns his troubles in a bottle.”

“But he danced with you.”

“Yes, so I could get the key. You know, you were there.”

“But he didn’t have to.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at his quartermaster. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “Enj, he could have been fired and criticised for dancing with you and he took the risk anyway without even knowing you. Even you have to admit he’s brave for it.”

“Hm. Brave is by far the kindest word for stupid don’t you think? I had nothing to lose, and he had everything. His risk was not my choice, it was made completely at the will of his indifference and idiocy.”

“You’re awfully defensive.” Courfeyrac supplied smugly.

Enjolras sighed and shook his head. “Don’t you have someone else to go and annoy?”

Courfeyrac made a show to look at a watch that didn’t exist on his arm. “Not until 5.” He then propped himself up on the wooden barrier next to Combeferre as they both stared at Enjolras until he cracked and shouted. “What?! What do you want?” And then they both dissolved into childish giggles.

“Just admit it! You find him… interesting at least?”

Enjolras smiled despite himself, but he didn’t care truly if his friends saw how he was feeling. “Interesting, most certainly I can give you, but it seems you’re much more interested that I am. Are you sure you haven’t developed feelings for your captor? Nothing like a good dose of Stockholm Syndrome.”

Courfeyrac pouted and Combeferre laughed at him. “That was good.” 

Their banter carried on like that until dawn broke, and Combeferre told Enjolras to get some rest, and Courfeyrac took over the wheel, at which Enjolras reluctantly agreed. When he got back to his cabin however, he realised he was not going to get much rest. Grantaire was sat on his bed, leg tied to the post so he couldn’t get out, hands tied and mouth gagged with cloth. He still looked attractive, Enjolras thought, even with the deadly glare he was sending. Well, he’d have to deal with it eventually so he might as well get it over with, so he stepped towards Grantaire who flinched. Enjolras rolled his eyes at the action and took the gag from his mouth, opening the barrier, it seemed, to the loud opinion of the officer. “What the fuck is this? I can’t believe I’m being held captive by some rich politician’s brat! What about a random stranger did you hate so much to ruin my career and hold me captive? No, wait let me guess… The drinking? No, too simple. The cynicism? You looked offended that I didn’t agree with you, bet that’s never happened to you, has it princess? That can’t be it though, can it? Ah… It’s the other thing isn’t it? I didn’t peg you for one of those. Don’t know why, I should have guessed. Why would someone like you dance with someone like me unless you were clearly going to try to kill me and garner something from it? You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Enjolras moved to sit behind his desk and put his head in his hands. “I can assure you that I am not nearly as disgusting as the men you work with, if that helps and it would be extremely hypocritical of me to hate and kill you for something I know you can’t help, since I am the same.”

Grantaire didn’t reply for a while, seemingly surprised at the turn of events. Enjolras was glad for the small moment of blessed silence until he looked down at his papers at the desk describing the amounts of cargo gotten from his last ship raid. Then, without looking up, he spoke quietly. “Do your men know you’re gay?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your crew. Your trusted employees. Your best mates. Do they know you like cock?” Grantaire spluttered. “You can’t deny it Grantaire, I already know. I won’t tell them, if that’s what’s got your knickers in a twist.”

“Well it’s not like your men know about you, is it? They’re pirates, they’re just as bigoted and racist and-“

“How dare you? Are you serious? Racist? Bigoted? My crew knows what I am and they don’t care. Is it not your people that sail slave ships from Africa, only to be intercepted by pirates? Is it not your people who put us sexual beings in prison and mental asylums for fucking who we like? Is it not your people who won’t let the disadvantaged get a job being free and sailing the seas, where all that matters to a pirate is himself. I have at least three members of my crew with something or other missing, a limb, an ear, an eye, and they work just fine. Have you ever heard of Anne Bonny, Grantaire? A fine pirate if there ever was one, but if she had been born amongst your people would she have gotten the chance to be anything but a housewife? I think not.” Enjolras finished and then sighed and finally looked up at Grantaire. “Call me what you will. A monster, a murderer, a criminal, whatever, but don’t you ever talk about my crew like that again, or I can assure you, you’ll regret it.”

Grantaire sat, captivated by the raw passion emanating from the Captain, but then snapped back to reality. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Live with this kind of conviction. You strike me as the kind who thinks you can change the world.” A disbelieving huff. “It’s childish and unrealistic and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Thank you for the warning, but I’m going to politely suggest you keep your mouth shut unless its going to be of use to me.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t? Kill me? Something tells me you would have more success in that than anything you could possibly attempt with the world.”

“Is that you or the over-privileged, pathetic, purposeless bastard talking? By this point I honestly can’t tell the difference.”

“That hurts, it really does. After all we’ve been through. What are you keeping me for anyway?”

“Honestly? Leverage. Keeping you here keeps you and what you know away from there. Then, when we get hunted down by the infamously resilient Javert, we have at least a small bargaining chip.”

“Slight flaw to that plan, I mean as much to them as I do to you.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a flaw. I’d want a man as fearless in the face of death on my side too if I could have him.”

“Was that a threat?”

“Not at all. A compliment if anything. I wouldn’t personally take it as one, but we’re not the most compatible people I’m coming to find.”

“Well then your finding skills are impeccable.”

Enjolras raised an unimpressed eyebrow and then continued doing his work. “There is always hope. Whether you believe in the world or not, there is always a chance.”

“Is that why one of your men got captured?”

“Oh, that.” Enjolras gave up writing and got up, walked over to his bed then sat next to Grantaire and reached behind him to undo his binds. “Completely by design I’m afraid. We could always rely on Javert’s arrogance to get Courf into the Captain’s cabin to take what we needed, and by the time he realizes it’s missing it will be too late. He’s likely to know by now, but has nowhere to go, no one to follow since we sent Courf on his own.”

“Clever. What did he steal?”

Enjolras moved onto the cloth tying him to the bedpost next and continued talking. “Merchant ship schedules. We have to fund ourselves somehow, and there’s a few buyers looking for easy access to merchant ships and the ones we don’t sell we plunder ourselves. We don’t like senseless killing, but everyone has their cross to bear, and people seem reluctant to give up their assets. I am not a good man, and I won’t give you that illusion I promise you.”

Grantaire laughed and then rubbed his wrists in their new freedom and shook his now loose leg. “I don’t know what to make of you, Apollo. You seem to have your heart in the right place but you can be truly ruthless. What makes you think I wouldn’t attack you right now if I value my life so little? I know they would come and kill me if I did it, so why do trust me?”

Enjolras considered this then shrugged. “I have a tendency to see the good in people, even if they can’t see it themselves. I have the upmost faith that you won’t kill me, or even attack me because you’re a smart man. You’ve calculated the pros and cons already I bet. And if the way you’re looking at me is anything to go by, I don’t think you’ll be killing me any time soon either. You might have a talented tongue for handing out insults, but your face betrays your admiration.” Grantaire blushed and chuckled nervously. “You may think you believe in nothing but you’re wrong. I don’t know you yet, but I can tell there’s something about you that I trust, that I want here. Maybe it’s your ability to completely try my patience like no one else can, or the way you face danger without so much as a second thought. You’re reckless and stupid and utterly strange, but you’re useful to me for the time being. I don’t believe that you’ll abandon the ship or cause trouble because you’re interested in what I have to say, or you wouldn’t have danced with me and risked your reputation. You’re a part of this crew for now, if you want a place. Who knows, maybe by the time Javert finds us, you’ll actually be on our side.”

“What ever you say, Apollo.” Grantaire was taken aback by the strange and unexpected kindness of allowing him to roam around the ship. It was not stupidity that had lead the Captain to this decision, Grantaire could tell, so he must genuinely believe in people that much. Knowing someone who existed in a complete state of passionate belief in the world was surreal to him. 

“My name is Enjolras. There is no need for titles here for we are equals, all right? Now if you don’t mind I need rest, and you’re in my bed.” 

Grantaire made a few quick apologies (at a lack of wit due to his surprise) then stumbled out and onto the deck, leaving behind a smiling but exhausted Enjolras who fell back onto the practically stone bed and fell asleep almost instantly.


	3. The Crew

Grantaire didn’t know what to do with this new found freedom at first. He had nowhere to go here, no bunk, no room, no whisky… “Hey, you’re the guard that Enjolras tied up, right? Grantaire?” Grantaire nodded dumbly in response to the frantic looking bespectacled man. It was an obvious answer, seeing as how he was the only one in a royal uniform and clearly didn’t know anyone on the ship, but it made him feel unusually happy because the other man was trying to make him feel like he almost fit in, like he couldn’t tell a difference between himself and Grantaire. It was unusual to say the least. He extended a hand for Grantaire to shake, which he did and smiled politely as he could while he did so. “I’m Combeferre, the ships’ physician. I’d like to check you over if that’s all right? Come with me, please.” Combeferre then started walking away, with Grantaire trailing behind and they walked like that until they were below deck, where there was music and laughter and chatter that Grantaire was unfamiliar with. He felt terribly out of place, but then Combeferre lead him to a small quiet room and sat him down on a hard, wooden bench surface. “Since you woke up how have you been feeling?” He asked, putting his fingers to Grantaire’s pulse point and counting the beats on a stopwatch in his other hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Dizziness, nausea, light-headedness, anything like that?”

“No, I feel fine.” Combeferre hummed in response, then put the watch back in his pocket and put his hand on Grantaire’s head to feel his temperature. 

“Open your mouth for me, please.” Grantaire obliged and felt a small flat stick in his mouth, pushing down his tongue as Combeferre looked inside then nodded, and took it out and Grantaire closed his mouth. “Have you been drinking any alcohol recently?” Combeferre asked, going to the worktable opposite Grantaire and pouring a glass of clear water before handing it to him.

“A little, last night.” He replied, sipping from the glass. Combeferre checked the small chafing marks and bruising on his free wrist and looked at the other after taking the glass away then knelt down and looked at the leg that had been tied up, then stood back up again.

“Right.” Combeferre picked up a quill from his desk and started writing quickly on a bit of parchment paper. “Do you drink often?”

“More often than not.” He said quietly, and Combeferre sighed, writing down more on the sheet.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Grantaire, there are many like you. I just need you to know that it’s not the only option, all right? There are people on this ship who have found themselves in the exact same position as you in terms of their alcohol intake and they will help you. I will help you.” Combeferre stopped writing and looked up at Grantaire then. His voice was calming to listen to, and sympathetic but not patronizing when he spoke, and it truly made Grantaire feel better. “Your heart beat is a little fast, but I’m writing that down to adrenalin and nerves but I’ll get Joly to check in a few hours’ time just to be sure. Your temperature is fine, a little warm but that would be because of how much material you’re wearing. You don’t seem to be having an allergic reaction to the chemicals that made you unconscious and your breathing is even and fine. All in all you’re good and healthy and I intend to keep you that way.” He then tore off a corner from his parchment and handed it to Grantaire. “Take this outside and ask for Joly to take a look, he’s my assistant. He’ll give you what you need.” Combeferre smiled, and Grantaire thanked him before walking out of the room and into the lower deck, where the music he had heard before picked up. He was about to step towards where he came from, until a strong hand came around his shoulders and directed him over to an almost full table where he sat, confused and looking around at everyone sat there.

The man who had sat him down then took a place next to him. “I’m Bahorel. You must be Grantaire.”

“Nothing gets past you.”

“I can see why the Captain likes you.” The stocky man laughed, a low rough sound that somewhat intimidated Grantaire. Bahorel was far more muscular than him and anyone else he had seen on his own crew, but he took care not to look scared, so instead of focusing on the machine next to him, he looked around the table and crossed his arms unconsciously defensively. Sat on his other side was a long-haired ginger man with a few fresh flowers in his hair and wearing crisp, clean clothing that looked far too luxurious for a pirate, even if they were mis-matched and too bright for his taste. When he caught Grantaire admiring his clothes, he turned and smiled at him. “Nice, aren’t they? I got them from a tailor in Nassau. He buys the silk from us, and in exchange he agreed to make my clothes for free. He’s very good, I’ll take you to his shop when we get there and show you around, because no offense but you really don’t suit that get up.”

“It is quite uncomfortable too, as well as unsightly. I’m Grantaire.”

“A pleasure, Grantaire. How about you come with me after we dock later and I buy you something that’s a little more comfortable?”

“That sounds great. Thank you.”

“No problem, You’re one of us now, right? You’ve got to look the part.”

“Jehan, will you stop harassing the new boy, he hasn’t even had a chance to introduce himself properly yet!” Came a female voice across from them. She had long brunette hair that was tied up, and was wearing similar clothes to the rest of the crew, which were baggy and comfortable and made of a thin, cheap material. 

“I was not harassing him, I was simply making conversation.” 

“Of course you were.’’ She smiled and then looked back to Grantaire. “I’m Éponine. I work down in the kitchens with Bossuet.”

“I’m-“

“Grantaire, I know. We all know. So, who are you leaving to join us? Good looking navy man like yourself must have a lovely wife.”

“All right now who’s harassing? Where are your manners ‘Ponine?” The man next to Eponine asked, who had taken interest after catching sight of Grantaire. His hair was a brighter ginger than Jehan's and was considerably shorter, and he had a little bit of ginger stubble. “Sorry about her, I’m Feuilly.”

“No it’s alright.” Grantaire cut in, looking to Eponine. “I don’t have a wife. Or a girl waiting for me at all in fact. It’s not for a lack of offers you understand, simply that I… I um, don’t want someone to marry my money so to speak.”

“It’s always the best ones!” Eponine whined, getting her an eye roll from the man next to her.

“He can hardly help it, can he?”

“What?” Grantaire asked.

“We all know what you’re getting at it’s alright. I don’t want to be ‘married for money’ either.” Feuilly winked, making Grantaire look down to the table embarrassed. 

“I can vouch for that.” Bahorel said next to him, blowing a kiss at Feuilly, which was unusual to see coming from the very masculine man.

“I’m sorry.” Grantaire said, getting up. “I have to go and find a man called Joly.”

“Well, I can take you to his cabin if you like?” Feuilly offered.

“No! No, it’s alright I was just going to get some fresh air first anyway, I’ll find him later, but thank you.” He said, and pushed himself from the table then hurried to top deck, ignoring the group of people he’d just met asking him what was wrong. When he got there, he leaned against the side of the boat and took deep breaths to try and calm himself and took in the familiar feeling of the ship rocking and the comforting scent of the salt water. He was swiftly torn from his little bubble by a familiar voice. 

“What’s up?”

Grantaire turned around to the source for the voice and found Courfeyrac looking at him from the wheel of the ship curiously. “I don’t belong here.”

“Why would that be?”

“You’re all just so… how do I put this? You’re all so idealistic. You accept each other and you all act like nothing is wrong in the world and that everyone is normal and they’re not!” His voice was steadily rising, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I am in the French navy, which you have stolen from, and you believe that I’m not going to hurt you or kill any of you and why? Because everyone is a good person on the inside?” He spun around and then laughed. “You’re all ridiculous! You don’t understand the real world or what’s going on or what it’s like! None of you can do anything and you need to stop acting like it’s all right.”

Courfeyrac let go of the wheel, confident the ship was on course, then walked over to Grantaire and didn’t speak but pulled him into a tight hug. Without warning, Grantaire uncontrollably burst into tears and hugged the other man back tightly. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Courfeyrac quietly started speaking. “Nobody’s ever accepted you before have they?” Grantaire stayed silent. “It’s alright. You’re not around them anymore.”

“Your Captain is keeping me as leverage. I’m nothing. Nothing to him, nothing to my own crew, and nothing to you. Why do you even care?”

Courfeyrac pulled away from the hug and held Grantaire at an arm’s length. “I’m just going to tell you this: Nobody here is using you as leverage, to us you’re a person. And by us, I do mean everyone. Even Enjolras. He’s stubborn, and sometimes cruel, but he’d never use someone like that… Except when he tricked you to get that key… But the point is you made an impression on him, and he doesn’t like just anybody Grantaire.”

“But I helped keep you detained for an unbalanced trial. You would have died and it would have been my fault. And I wouldn't have cared.”

“I could hardly expect you to care for me if you don't care for yourself now, could I? I wouldn't have blamed you.” He let go of Grantaire’s shoulder and walked back to the wheel, holding on but not turning. “I had complete faith in Enjolras. He’s very smart, and he cares about us. He might not want to show it, but he cares.” Grantaire nodded but didn’t reply. Courfeyrac then bent down and grabbed a bottle of rum and passed it to Grantaire, who took it gladly. They spoke leisurely about many things as the day got brighter and the crew started to rise from the middle and lower deck. Over the few hours they’d known each other, they had learned a lot. Grantaire knew that Courfeyrac was born in Ireland then got shipped to France to work as soon as he was 5, explaining the lilt in his accent, and that he had met the crew when he had passed out in a bar somewhere after being kicked out of his home, and they took him back to the ship, where Combeferre fixed him up, and now he was Quartermaster. Courfeyrac knew that Grantaire had started out as an artist, but was forced into the navy when his father decided it was not a noble enough profession and that he had been in no less that three separate arranged engagements that had been called off, meaning he had no choice but to devote his time to working in the navy, where he drank to pass the time because the people he worked with disapproved of his lack of patriotism so avoided talking to him at all costs. By the time the ship was at full sail and the morning sun was glaring down on them, they were somewhat good friends. Eventually though, Grantaire remembered that he was actually supposed to do something. “Oh my god, Courf?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me where to find Joly? I was supposed to find him hours ago.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “Well everyone’s up and out now so he’ll be in his little office. I can come with you if you want? I’ve been at this wheel since our honourable and noble Captain left us 4 hours ago.” 

“Sure thing.” Grantaire said, smiling at the prospect of having a friend. 

“Good. Bahorel!” Grantaire winced at the shout, having not had any rest himself and finding his senses quite sensitive. Bahorel jogged over in an instant, waving a hello to Grantaire. “Could you hold the wheel for a bit, my shift is over because my eyes are stinging like nobody’s business, and I need to take Grantaire to see Joly.”

“Absolutely. Is everything all right?” He directed at Grantaire, who looked pleased by the concerned tone.

“Fine. Just need a few things to keep me going.”

“Very well. Have a few drinks with us tonight? Get you good and acquainted with the crew. They’d all love to get to know you I’m sure.”

“If you say so. I’d really better get going.”

Bahorel nodded and soon Grantaire was being lead away by Courfeyrac to the office, where Joly was sat in the small wooden chair tucked into Combeferre’s desk. When the door opened up fully though, he sprang from the seat and stood in front of the two men. “Courf, and you must be Grantaire! Hello, I’m Joly, I’ve heard so much about you already. You are just as handsome as they say! Sorry, not really a good opening statement. Have you got any diseases?”

“That wasn’t much better.” Grantaire and Courfeyrac laughed at Joly’s small frown. “But no I haven’t. I’m not contagious at all, perfectly healthy in fact.”

Joly smiled at that let himself hold a hand out to be shaken, which Grantaire took, even if the shake was short lived. “What is it you’ve come here for?”

“Combeferre told me to give you this.” He handed Joly the piece of parchment which he looked over and nodded, then turned to a cabinet where he rummaged, making clinking noises, until he pulled out a small glass bottle with a transparent, yellow liquid in. He then shut and locked the cabinet and walked over to Grantaire, taking his wrist and holding it out, then uncapped the bottle and poured a little onto the rope-burned skin of his wrists, which stung and made him hiss. “Sorry, I’m just showing you how to use it. It’s antiseptic, keeps it clean, and stops it from getting irritated. You’ll want to apply that twice a day at least for a week, and it should have faded by then, since you clearly didn’t struggle too much.” He then went back to the desk and picked up some small bandages and wrapped them over the cleaned wounds. “This is so you don’t touch them all the time and get them dirty, but let them air out on a night time, or they’ll get sticky and gross. You should have come straight after your appointment so that I could have done this sooner, you’re lucky there was no more damage done!” 

“It’s only a little-“

“It doesn’t matter. Everything big starts from something little. A tiny sniffle can lead to pneumonia if not treated quickly and efficiently.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“So you should be! Imagine how it would affect me if someone died when I could have helped them. Think about what you’re doing next time.” Joly said sternly, and smiled kindly again when Grantaire nodded. “Well, good. I think you’re alright now, though I do recommend you get some rest, your under eyes are baggy and your skin a little pale. You’re tired.”

“I’ve nowhere to stay.”

“I’m sure Enjolras will find some where to accommodate you.” Piped up Courfeyrac, leading Grantaire away after they both said goodbye to Joly.

“How? He’s not even awake yet and surely won’t be for hours to come…”

“That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t give a shit about his own health, as long as we’re all good. He thinks of himself as our leader, responsible if anything happens and he wouldn’t miss his job for anything, not even sleeping. It’s unhealthy and he should rest more, but he can’t bring himself to do it. If anything were to go wrong while he were sleeping he’d blame himself completely.” By the time they were on deck, Courfeyrac’s words had become true and Enjolras stood behind the wheel where Bahorel had been, reveling in the feeling of the ocean wind blowing through his hair. Grantaire was almost floored by the sheer natural beauty of Enjolras in such a natural state. He looked truly content, and almost happy. His golden hair glistened in the sunlight and his tanned skin looked warm and complimented his contrasting sharp blue eyes. 

Courfeyrac dragged him up to Enjolras’ side and Grantaire realized after a moment of staring that they were actually talking.

“He can use my cabin.” Enjolras said, as if it were obvious.

“Really?” Courfeyrac asked, eyebrows raised. “I never got to sleep in your cabin when I first came here.”

“Well, you’re not Grantaire, are you? He’ll be used to luxury and I’m sure the navy won’t take back damaged goods.” Grantaire’s heart deflated a bit at that, and noticing the look on Grantaire’s face, Enjolras smiled. “A joke, Grantaire. People are not cargo, no matter how much they’re worth.”

Grantaire smiled uncharacteristically sheepishly at that and could have sworn he’d seen a small blush on Enjolras but was kind enough to not mention it. Courfeyrac just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Grantaire, come with me I’ll take you to Enjolras’ cabin.”

“Thank you.” Then they walked away and Courfeyrac grinned at him.

“I knew he liked you.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.”

“Yes well I’ll admit he can be a bastard sometimes, but you just have to give him a chance. He’s very persuasive.” They arrived at the cabin in no time. “Well here I leave you. I’ll come back to get you when lunch is ready, I guess. Enjolras has a lovely selection of fruit in there if you get hungry in the meantime, having missed breakfast and all.”

“I don’t really have to rest, you know? I do work for the navy I can be useful on a ship.”

“You’re no good to anybody tuckered out of your mind now get some sleep, doctor’s orders.”

“Yes, sir.” He gave a mock salute then closed the cabin doors as Courfeyrac walked away and moved to Enjolras’ bed, lying down and for the first time in a while, falling into a peaceful, non-alcohol prompted sleep.


	4. Dinner

Grantaire jostled awake a few hours later when he found himself falling face-first into the floor after a particularly rough jostle of the ship from the waves. He let out a small whine as he picked himself up and rubbed his aching nose, finding a small droplet of blood on his hand when he pulled it away, but not much. Nursing it with his hand he got up with a groan and squinted at the light glaring through the cabin windows. With only minimal damage done, he let go of his nose, and walked over to Enjolras’ desk and sat in his chair and tucked himself in, then looked down at the papers on the desk. They were boring mostly, things involving counts of stock in rum, sugar, tobacco and everything else. The only things of remote interest where probably locked in the top drawer of the desk, so Grantaire thought he’d try it just in case and found to his surprise that it wasn’t locked at all, and inside was a piece of parchment bearing the handwriting of Combeferre. He knew he shouldn’t look, if he wanted to garner the trust of the people around him, but he just couldn’t help himself and picked it up, and after few lines realized that it was just his medical report stating that he had small bruising around his wrists and whatnot and figured everything else he already knew so he never bothered reading the rest. With a frown and a shrug he put the parchment back and leaned back in the chair, then realized he was leaning on a red coat, making the back soft instead of digging into his back.

He lounged peacefully for a while, drifting into sleep, when he heard the door open and a familiar voice. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.” 

He grinned and opened his eyes slowly, peering at Enjolras, who was smiling in the doorway until he took a longer look at Grantaire and rushed over to him, grabbing his face in his hands and tilting it side to side. “No, no, no I only left you alone for a few hours, what did you do?” Enjolras asked frantically. He looked down at his shirt and without a second thought ripped some off and wiped it over Grantaire’s face, where quite a bit of blood had slipped out and had gone unnoticed in his tired state. Enjolras then clutched the cloth to Grantaire’s nose, lifted him up and started dragging him towards the door, which was when Grantaire’s mind caught up with what was happening, and he held Enjolras’ wrist and took his hand away from his face.

“Enjolras, calm down. I fell out of bed and went face-first into the floor, I’m all right.”

Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief, and let himself calm down. “I thought you’d done something stupid.”

“Why do you care? Ah, yes. Damaged goods, I get it. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Grantaire, I’m not going to sell you out to the French Navy, all right?”

“A joke, Enjolras. I know you’re one of those humanitarian types. I was teasing.”

Enjolras shook his head and rolled his eyes. They both laughed and then Enjolras went to move away but was stopped by Grantaire’s hand still holding his wrist. For a moment they both glanced down at where they were connected and then back at each other, but then Grantaire mumbled an apology, let go and left the room hastily, leaving Enjolras to get the compass he’d went in for, before following Grantaire to top deck, and resuming his place at the wheel beside Courfeyrac. 

“He likes you too, you know?” Enjolras closed his eyes and gave himself a minute to build up his patience.

“We barely know each other Courf. He doesn’t ‘like’ me, don’t be so ridiculous.”

“He’s thankful that you brought him here.”

“Stop it. That's not the same as 'liking'. He feels indebted to me, and I refuse to take advantage.”

“Enjolras.” There was a deep sigh from the blonde, who then turned and looked at Courfeyrac, who was giving him his best serious face. “He likes you. He’s not been allowed to do that before, and it’s difficult for him, so just be nice to him okay? Just try.”

“I can be nice without trying.”

“Sure you can, but just promise me you won’t make him cry.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen between us, Courf, but if it makes you feel better, I promise to try not to make him cry.” He said, hand on heart. 

“So romantic.”

“There’s no need to be romantic!”

“You let him sleep in your bed.”

“I’d let anyone sleep in my bed.” Courf made a face at him like he was trying not to laugh. “NO, not like that! I wouldn’t just have sex with anyone, I meant I would loan my bed to someone who needed it you dirty bastard” Courfeyrac laughed then at Enjolras’ blush.

“No, no I believe you. I don’t think you’ve ever slept with anyone in your entire life.”

Enjolras just punched Courfeyrac in the arm and shook his head. “Please for the love of god, go and do something useful.”

“Shall I send up Grantaire to take my place?”

“Certainly not. Go and find the poor man some decent clothes if anything. He must be dying of heat stroke in the ones he’s got.” 

“You sound very concerned.” Enjolras just huffed and pushed Courfeyrac playfully, while Courfeyrac held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright I’ll stop. Where do you suggest I find new clothes?” Enjolras was about to open his mouth to make a suggestion then quickly changed his mind and shrugged. “Oh my God…” Courfeyrac stared at Enjolras.

“What?” The blonde snapped.

“You were about to suggest he wear some of yours, weren’t you?”

“No!” He argued, but his defensive demeanor gave away his lies. “Fine, I was. It only makes sense, since I’ve got some going spare that he’d find more comfortable than what he’s wearing and he can change them when we port in Nassau, but you’re far too immature for such a suggestion so I guess you go and find your own solution!"

Courfeyrac smirked, which annoyed Enjolras even more. “No, no you’re right it’s more… convenient. I’ll just go and get them from your and Grantaire’s cabin, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then when Enjolras saw Courfeyrac’s smile go wider shook his head. “No! My cabin, mine. Not ours. It’s not permanent.” Courfeyrac started laughing. “Oh, fucking grow up, man. Go on, go!” Courfeyrac didn’t need to be told twice and hurried off to Enjolras’ cabin to get the clothes, leaving Enjolras by himself for a few minutes, until his silence was intercepted by Combeferre.

“Did you get his information?”

“Yes. Joly gave me it this morning.” He made a worried face and then looked at Combeferre. “Will he be alright?”

“He’ll be just fine, but he does have a problem. It’s no different to how Courf was, but we need to help him.” Combeferre smiled reassuringly at Enjolras then patted his back. “We can make him better.” Enjolras nodded and focused on the distance and controlling the ship. “Of course, we have to ease him into it. He’s having a few drinks tonight with the crew but we’ll all be there and we’ll control the intake of alcohol, alright? Will you be there?”

“I haven’t got time for that and you know it ‘Ferre. There’s planning to do for what we have to do next and letters to be written that need to be sent off straight away when we dock. I can’t just do whatever I want.” He smiled then, though it never reached his eyes, as it rarely did these days. “Have a good enough time for the both of us though, okay?”

Combeferre looked like he wanted to argue but just nodded and walked back to his little room below deck. Enjolras then leaned on the wheel and was content to bask in the sunlight until he was broken out of his peace a third time by Eponine coming to shout everyone for their dinner. At this, the rest of the crew ventured below deck, but desperate to have just five minutes, he ducked behind the wheel until he couldn’t hear any more footsteps and cautiously stood up, only to find Eponine looking at him with an unimpressed raised eyebrow, at which point he made a pained noise and tried to sink back down, praying to any god that existed for some miracle that she didn’t see him, but when he heard footsteps coming his way, he knew he had failed. 

“Enjolras? Come on, you’re not missing another meal. It’s Jehan’s turn to keep watch.”

“I can do it. I have no problem with it, and it only seems fair that someone who is willing should keep watch. Besides, between you and me I think Jehan’s a little sleep deprived so what if he misses something?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Get up.” Enjolras stayed firmly in place, like a petulant child, and Eponine rolled her eyes. “If I have to come over there and carry you down there myself I will, damn your pride.” Enjolras made a point of avoiding eye contact with her. She heaved a sigh and walked over, at which point he got up and jumped back. “You’re being childish.”

“I am not! I will not be forced into this, Eponine!”

“I’ll let you have the reddest apple.”

“No.”

“You only have to have a little.”

“I need to do my duty in protecting the ship!”

“Just a small portion, it’ll take all of twenty minutes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“You can sit next to Grantaire.”

“What?” Eponine smirked a little, and Enjolras hung his head down. “I mean, no.”

“Oh, no you’re coming. Right now.” She then walked over and dragged him away from his post and to the lower deck, where all of his friends were gathered around the tables in the open middle deck. The laughter and happiness in the room always brought a smile to his face, even now when he had been forced there. Eponine let go of him when he was pushed down onto a table opposite Combeferre and Courfeyrac, like usual.

“What did I tell you about pissing off Eponine?” Courfeyrac asked with a smile, at which Enjolras just gave him an unimpressed look. 

“She is a truly terrifying woman.”

“But we love her anyway.”

Their small conversation stopped when they heard protests across the hall and turned to watch the scene. Eponine had grabbed Grantaire by the elbow and hauled him from his table, emitting many protests from Joly, Bossuet, and Bahorel (his table mates) and was dragging him to the table Enjolras had just been deposited at. Combeferre turned to ask Enjolras what was happening, but decided against it when he saw the deep blush on Enjolras’ face, who was trying to look anywhere but at Grantaire. He instead nudged Courfeyrac and aimed his focus to Enjolras as well, but just as he was about to tease, Grantaire was sat down at his table.

“Have I done something wrong?” Grantaire asked, confused.

“No dear,” Eponine replied sweetly, “I promised him that if he came down to dinner he could be on the same table as you, and since his petulance knows no bounds I'm forced to keep my side of the bargain.”

Courfeyrac was about to take up his missed opportunity then, but Enjolras beat him to it. “Honestly, Courf, could your crush be any more obvious?” Enjolras took a large swig of the rum in the glass in front of him. Courfeyrac made an offended face at the accusation. 

“It is quite pathetic.” Combeferre chimed in.

“Wow. This is just great. Mutiny. I think you’ll find, sweet heart,” He said, turning his direction to Grantaire, “that the aforementioned ‘him’ is actually our very own Captain, Enjolras.”

Grantaire looked to Enjolras, who was death glaring Courfeyrac to the best of his capability, which was an intense look Grantaire would rather never be subject to. “Well, Apollo, if you wanted to be next to me, you need only ask.”

“I did not-“ Enjolras looked to Grantaire and found him in a very different get up to what he had seen before. “You look more comfortable, it looks…nice.” Nice indeed. He was wearing one of Enjolras’ baggy white shirts with a little ink stain on the collar that went to his elbows, leaving his muscular and tanned forearms on show, and revealing a small tattoo on his wrist that Enjolras couldn’t quite make out. He was also wearing a small cap that his curls were having trouble staying under, and Enjolras just wanted to feel them, maybe pull on one and see if it would bounce back. He wondered if it went like that naturally, or if Grantaire played with it to make it look so imperfectly perfect. He wished he could find out. He wanted to know if was soft or if his fingers would get tangled. He wanted to play with it and push it out of Grantaire’s big blue eyes so he could see them better, because they were like the colour of the free sea that Enjolras loved so much. They held anger and bitterness and amusement and something else but Grantaire’s hair was in the way so he couldn’t tell. Maybe if he just…

“Enjolras, what are you doing?” Combeferre asked, at which point Enjolras pulled out of his little monologue and looked around at the blank faces of his table, then realized he had let his hand wander to Grantaire’s face, where he was now tucking a few errand curls behind the other man’s ear and oh god, the eyes were even more beautiful now. They looked frightened and confused but beautiful nonetheless. Fortunately, he was now still aware of the other occupants of the table and felt compelled to give an explanation. Unfortunately he was never a good liar under pressure. Planned out lies were fine, there was a direction for planned lies to take, but he couldn’t just sprout out random explanations, especially in situations like this. 

“There was a wasp.” He said simply, and pulled his hand back, then picked up a spoon and flicked at the air as if it had come near him (resulting in him looking a little insane) and then started hastily eating the soup that Eponine had made.

“A wasp?” Grantaire asked. “I didn’t feel it.”

“Where did it go?!” Courfeyrac asked, genuinely panicked.

Combeferre shook his head and he and Enjolras shared a look that said ‘yeah, we both know there are no wasps at sea but in order to preserve the dignity of this situation lets just not mention it’. Enjolras cannot describe how thankful he was that Combeferre was around sometimes. “It went away.” Combeferre said calmly.

“Where?” 

“Calm down Courf. It went outside.”

“Oh. Jesus that was scary.”

Grantaire laughed at Courfeyrac’s dramatics and Combeferre laughed along with him, but Enjolras was too busy practically inhaling his soup so he could go back to the wheel by himself. He finished rather quickly, choosing to discard most by pouring it into Courfeyrac’s bowl when they were all focused on said idiot slapping a ‘wasp’ away from Bahorel’s arm. He then hurried off to the deck where he took a massive breath of fresh air, and spotted Jehan sitting on the side of the ship and holding onto a rope.

“You alright up here by yourself?” He asked.

“I’m fine. It’s so lovely out here, isn’t it? The waves so serene, the sun so bright, the sky so blue.”

“It’s magnificent.”

“I love that word.” They both chuckled. “Are you going to make a move?”

“What?” Enjolras asked.

“Are you going to make-“

“No I heard you, I mean why are you jumping to the conclusion that I want to?” Enjolras asked defensively.

“Because you look at him the same way Cosette looks at Marius.”

“That’s a strange comparison.”

“True though. You look at him like you know he’s good for you, like you know he’s good in general. You get that glossed over look in your eye, like when you watch the waves when you think no ones looking, or like when you give a speech to the people in places when we dock, or when someone new signs up. But then you look away because how could it be possible? How could someone so different possibly compliment you in any way? He’s wrong, but right, annoying, but prominent, plain, but sexy.” Enjolras slapped his arm lightly at that. “Sorry, but you know it’s true. He’s nothing special, is he?”

“Of course he is, Jehan. He’s got this soft, black curly hair that looks like he’s always just woken up, but it makes him look rogue and fun. He’s got such lovely, soft skin, and a lovely, soft touch. When we danced, he held me like a porcelain doll, even when he let me lead. He let me be in control and still made sure I was comfortable. And don’t get me started on those eyes, Jehan. My god, those eyes. Have you seen them? I would recommend at least a singular viewing they are worth it. It’s not just that they’re the most pigmented blue known to man, because although that is a magnificent view in itself it’s what they hold. There’s a determination and stubbornness there. There’s admiration and playfulness but there’s compassion and sympathy. He just needs something to dedicate to, Jehan. He’s so capable I can see it in him, he just needs to believe.” When he finished, Jehan was smiling at him, and Enjolras just looked at him, confused, then asked, “what?” Instead of answering, he just looked to a point behind Enjolras, which revealed Grantaire when Enjolras turned, who ran down back onto the deck. “Shit. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Jehan shrugged and felt a strange type of anger in him. “You’re relieved. Go and have your dinner.”

Jehan recognized the tone and rushed to do as he was told as Enjolras went back to his beloved ship wheel, and let himself enjoy the quiet lull of the waves.


	5. Rum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire finds his way to the stock of rum to cope with his feelings...

“Honesty is the best policy.”

“No, the best policy is to ignore it until it goes away.”

“Grantaire, you’re just as bad as him, honestly.” Eponine topped up Grantaire’s glass as he sat at the small kitchen table.

“How would you know? Forgive me if it sounds rude, but you don’t even know me. He’s perfect. God-like if you will. I’m not like that Eponine. I’m an alcoholic. I’m useless. I blindly follow the orders of my superiors because it’s a source of money, morals be damned. I’ve let such bad things happen because I didn’t care about anything or anyone. He cares about everyone and everything.” He took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, only to be pushed back up by Eponine.

“You’ll ruin your posture doing that.”

He sat back up begrudgingly. “How can I trust his words? He’s got a volatile tongue has our dear Enjolras. The first ever time I met him, I thought his attraction for me was sincere, but how can I really know? I can’t be that naïve. I should have known better. I did know better, but he made me... Believe. Nothing good ever comes from that.”

“Now, don’t be like that. You heard the way he was talking about you.”

“But he doesn’t have anything to back him up. He’s being stupid.”

Eponine just shrugged. “I guess you’re right. He is pretty stupid.”

“That’s the thing Eponine, he’s not. He’s really smart. Too intelligent for his own good, and he’s going to get himself killed because of it, so I want to know what the fuck he’s playing at.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re scared that if you let yourself have feelings for him, he’ll leave you.”

“Look, I like him yeah, just not in a… in a… not like that, I just admire him. As a person.”

“Drop the act, Grantaire it’s getting old. We all know you’re gay and we’re fine with it.”

“I am not gay!” He shouted, suddenly offended for no good reason, and Eponine looked immediately regretful. “Don’t assume to know what I am, or who I like, you don’t know me! None of you know me!” He got up and drank the last of the alcohol in his glass and slammed it down on the table surface before storming out of the kitchen, leaving a shocked and concerned Eponine.

He didn’t get far before he saw Courfeyrac and tried to alter his course so that he didn’t run into him, but it was a lost cause, because he was soon walking next to the shorter man. “Grantaire, are you alright?”

“Please go away.”

“What’s up? I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”

“Just stop following me, I’m fine!” He snapped. When Courfeyrac opened his mouth to reply, Grantaire groaned in frustration. "I bet you're one of them too aren't you? To think I let myself trust you. This fucking ship is cursed!" He accused, his face red and hot with anger. "You're all just behind the scenes laughing I bet! 'Look at the silly drunkard! Look at the way he leers at us when we're around, none of us are safe!' Well you're all just fine, because I don't like men I'm completely normal! Now if you would kindly leave me alone I'd be eternally grateful!" He finished shouting, then noticed the bottle of rum Courfeyrac was holding and grabbed it, taking it with him as he left behind a bewildered Courfeyrac in favour of heading up some halls to where the stock was likely to be. He’d already finished what was left of the bottle when he’d reached the opposite side of the ship, and reveled in the light dizziness it caused. Of course, now he had nothing left, but saw a room on the left of him and let himself in, finding the stack of rum. Grinning, he picked up two bottles and sat down with his back to the door to stop anyone coming in should they find him. He’d missed being alone with alcohol, his only comfort. With a deep sigh of relief he took the cork out of the first bottle and started gulping generous amounts, loving the familiar burn down his throat. It was no aged whisky, but it would do. It was like the stuff he could afford before he’d had a sailor’s pay. It didn’t need to be fancy, it just needed to make him forget.

He sat in silence for what he felt was about an hour, until he had drank both bottles and maybe another, and then got up and laughed when everything travelled to his head, then promptly fell over again and crawled towards the door, scrambling at the handle, before finally finding it and using it to pull himself up, then opening it towards himself and stumbling out and running into the wall on the opposite side of the small hall. He could feel the blood running down his face again from his earlier face-smashing, but was so used to the feeling that it would have worried him more if he hadn’t felt it. Steadily he made his way back to where he’d seen Courfeyrac and found the man sat at a table with Bahorel. Everyone else seemed to be there too, nursing their own drinks. Cautiously, he made his way over to Courfeyrac, who looked at him with worry. “Grantaire where have you been? It’s nearly nine!” Maybe he’d been sat for more than an hour.

“I’ve b’n so good, thanking you for asking!” He then gave a grin that he felt properly conveyed his appreciation, but only made Courfeyrac frown.

“You’ve been gone for hours. What happened to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying to me. I-“ hiccup “I don’t even know where I am now if I’m be’n honest. Where's m' crew?" He then lost balance and grabbed onto Courfeyrac’s chair before he fell, and swayed in his place a bit, before noticing a fresh bottle of something on the table and made a sweep for it, but couldn’t quite grab it. He tried again, and nearly fell, but Bahorel stood up and leaned Grantaire’s weight onto him. “You’re strong. Very very strong. Your mother must be” burp “proud.” He then smiled gleefully again. “Can I see your muscles? They never take off their shirts on my ship around me ‘cause they think I’m gonna touch ‘em, but I-I’m not.” He giggled. “I never asked them though, because they were scary and mean. They used to hit me when I was in the same room as them at night because I was sick they said. They needed-d me to understand so I could still be their friend.” He frowned. “I ended up getting my own cabin though, so it turn’d out good in the end didn’t it?” He laughed to himself. “But you lot are like a…” He dragged out the word for a few seconds while he tried to think of more words to put there. “…nope, nothing it’s gone.”

At this point, the entire place had gone silent, and Grantaire noticed and then sighed deeply. “Is this where you all… give up pretending? I hope so. I was waiting for it. Are you first Bah-bah?” He asked, patting Bahorel’s chest. “I think you should go last see, ‘cause I bet you hit the hardest and there’ll be no improvement from that. U-Unless you all,” He span as much as he could with Bahorel’s arm around him, still holding him up for reasons his mind couldn’t put together, and pointed his finger vaguely at everyone in the room, “have weapons. This one time,” he put his attention back to Courfeyrac, who sat with tears in his eyes, and continued on as if it was just a friendly anecdote, “they had a little copper wire from my reading glasses frame, they smashed them but that’s not very relevant right now, and a lantern ‘nd they heated up the sharp bit and branded me!” He laughed as he would to a good joke and shook his head, but filtered out his laughter when he saw everyone looking at him with horrified faces. “What?” On the opposite side of the room, he heard a few sniffles and turned to find Eponine crying, and tried to move towards her but was still in the firm and quite protective hold of Bahorel. With a lot of effort, he pushed his way from the grasp and moved towards her, before hugging her tightly, and was surprised when she hugged back and held him tightly as he could, sobbing into his shoulder. “S’okay Ponny, it doesn’t hurt any more. I didn’t mean for you to cry.” He then felt arms around him again from behind and found Joly attached to him, in a similar state of distress. He turned from Eponine and hugged Joly in the same way he had Eponine and stroked the man’s hair. “You alright Jojo? I’ve been using the slimy yellow stuff like you asked I promise. It smells funny.” He chuckled, then looked up and found everyone in different stages of shock and sadness staring at him. “Do I have something on my face?” He asked, genuinely confused, still trying to comfort Joly.

They all shook their heads minutely, then Grantaire noticed a figure stepping forward from the back of the room. He vaguely recognized the wavy blonde hair, and when he realized it was Enjolras he smiled widely. “’Jolras! I was going to tell you something, but I forgot what now.” Upon hearing of the approach, Joly pulled away from Grantaire with his puffy red eyes blood-shot, and squeezed his hand reassuringly before slipping back to his table, and Grantaire suddenly felt like his arms were very empty before they were filled with Enjolras. 

“They can’t hurt you anymore.” He said softly into Grantaire’s ear as he held him close, arms around his waist. Grantaire hesitantly did the same to Enjolras, joining in the embrace. “You’ve got us, and we’re going to make sure you never go through anything like that again, okay?” Grantaire nodded into Enjolras’ shoulder.

“This’s the first time we’ve touched since you tricked me.”

“You mustn’t take that personally. I never did it to hurt you, I was just doing my job.” When Grantaire just nodded again, Enjolras sighed and pulled back but held Grantaire up with an arm around his waist. “Let’s get you to bed. Combeferre?” The man in question looked to Enjolras. “Come with me and sort out his nose, would you? Oh, and bring a glass of water.” Combeferre nodded and got up as Enjolras lead Grantaire back to his cabin and set him down gently on his bed. “You can’t do this to yourself.”

“Why not, it’s the only way to cope. To forget.”

“What are you trying to forget.”

“You.” Grantaire said, keeping eye contact with Enjolras. “Since I saw you at that ball I knew you were too beautiful for me, and I needed to stop thinking like that. I needed make myself better again. We only met two days ago and they’ve been the best two days of my life. I was getting too involved. I can’t do that. I can’t let myself think things are going fine because every time I think that, it all goes wrong, and I didn’t want things to go wrong here.”

“Oh, Grantaire, nothing is going to go wrong. You’re going to be fine and so am I. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re wonderful, and funny, and compassionate. You’re beautiful inside and out. Nobody can take that away from you. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. You’re going to be fine.”

“Are you usually this sappy?”

“I promised Courf I’d try to be romantic.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ll tell you when you wake up.” Grantaire smiled and nodded his assent when Combeferre walked in, holding a bucket, and glass of water. He sat on the bed next to Grantaire and passed him the water, which he accepted gladly and drank fully. Combeferre put the bucket next to the bed and told him if he were to vomit that Enjolras would prefer it was not all over his floor, and then felt his temperature and told him that the best he could do was wait until after he’d had some sleep. He then patted Grantaire’s face softly with a damp cloth to get rid of the remaining blood there and stood up with the stained fabric.

“’Jolras?” Grantaire asked quietly.

“What?”

“Will you lay down with me?” Combeferre smiled at Enjolras smugly, and the blonde just rolled his eyes. 

“Combeferre go back to everyone I’ll take care of him. Grantaire, of course I will.” He took off his red waistcoat and emptied out everything from his pockets on his desk as Combeferre walked out. He then walked to Grantaire. “Lift your arms.” Grantaire complied without question and didn’t struggle when Enjolras pulled off the ruined shirt. “I’ll have to find you something else to wear tomorrow. Do you want a new shirt to sleep in?”

“Nah. S’too warm. You’re the only thing I need.”

Enjolras smiled. “Alright.” He took off his and Grantaire’s boots and socks, and then took off his own shirt and climbed into his small bed behind Grantaire, making sure the drunk was facing the side of the bed in case he was going to throw up. Grantaire was hot to the touch, but it didn’t stop Enjolras from holding him close as they laid together under his thin cover, and Grantaire had never felt more safe in his life as he fell asleep with Enjolras behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to tell me if I've made any mistakes :)


	6. New Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a mature bit in this chapter, just a forewarning.

“Upon one summer’s morning, I carefully did stray.” Grantaire woke to the soft tune coming from the other side of the room from none other than Enjolras sat behind his desk, singing the verse softly and beautifully. So much so that Grantaire chose to pretend to be asleep to let himself hear more of it. “Down by the walls of Whopping, where I met a sailor gay.” The sheets were warm and he felt a little sticky and clammy, but he didn’t want to stop the perfect sound reverberating around the room. “Conversing with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain.” He shifted quietly and arched himself so his head was leaning towards the song. “Saying William when you go I fear you’ll never return again.” He coughed then, unable to help himself. Enjolras stopped and looked at him, then frowned. “You should be sleeping. Combeferre said-”

“Don’t stop. I didn’t want you to stop.” Grantaire said, sitting up despite the protests from his pounding head and wrapping the small sheet around himself. Enjolras got up and walked over, then sat next to him and brushed his hair back from his face, then guided him back down to lay on the bed, tucked beside him. 

“My heart is pierced by cupid,” Enjolras began again, quietly so as not to worsen the other man’s headache. “I distain all glittering gold.” He sang sweetly, and Grantaire felt himself relax in the presence of Enjolras’ low tones. He leant down and rested his head against Enjolras’ chest and listened to his voice. “There is nothing can console me,” Grantaire smiled at the vibrations he felt against his cheek as the blonde continued the verse, and Enjolras ran his hands through Grantaire’s hair soothingly. ”But my jolly sailor bold.” He paused, then took one of Grantaire’s curls in his finger. “His hair it hangs in ringlets.” He dropped it and Grantaire smiled. “His eyes as black as coal. My happiness attends him, wherever he may go.” He pressed a small kiss to Grantaire’s heated, blushing cheek and smiled warmly. “From Towerhill to Blackwall, I’ll wander weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor,” he put an arm around Grantaire, “until he sails home.” He paused again, and Grantaire almost ached to hear the chorus. “My heart is pierced by cupid, I distain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me, but-“

The door swung open, effectively killing the calming mood they had built up, and revealed a very excited looking Courfeyrac. It didn’t take more than two minutes for the excitement to slowly fade into his characteristic smugness though. Grantaire couldn’t focus on it for too long though, due to the pounding in his head, so just chose to bury his face in Enjolras’ chest. Courfeyrac grinned and raised his eyebrows at Enjolras, who just shrugged and smiled. “What do you want Courf?”

“We’re here. I thought you’d want to show him ‘round.”

“I don’t think he can move right now. He needs rest.”

“I’m sure he’d be more comfortable in your town house, come on.” He strode in confidently and hauled Grantaire up, then nearly lost his footing when Grantaire groaned and planted his full weight in his arms instead of standing himself up. “We’ve all been there buddy, but you need to soldier on. Tell you what? You come with me, and I’ll take you straight to the house in a carriage, while Enjolras goes out to buy you some nice things, okay?” Courfeyrac looked to Enjolras who was unimpressed at the turn of events, considering he had not said he would buy things in any way, shape or form, but at the same time didn’t mind if it was for Grantaire, so he just nodded back. Grantaire muttered his consent into Courfeyrac’s shirt, and let the man drag him out of the cabin with little to no effort on his part until he ended up sprawled along the back seat of a carriage, with Courfeyrac and Combeferre sitting on the other side.

Enjolras looked around the cabin and embraced by the familiar emptiness, found it had been much better with Grantaire in it, drunk or not. He picked up a small satchel with his earnings in it and smiled a little to himself then walked out of the room and went directly into the bustling streets where the traders and merchants were rushing around as usual. Everything was hectic yet completely controlled, give or take a few pickpockets, the air was fresh and laced with the smell of freshly baked bread and the ground felt solid and unmoving beneath his feet. From the corner of his eye he spotted something sparkling and he walked over to the small stand in the market that had jewelry in it. When he got there, he looked at the various necklaces and bracelets and then noticed a little pin that resembled a small green flower made from diamonds. The way it captured and made the light spiral had brought Enjolras over in the first place and as he was admiring it, he heard a familiar voice next to him. “It’s very nice.” 

“Yes it is, but what could I possibly do with it?”

Jehan shrugged. “If I liked the look of it, I’d buy it and then put it on something I look at often. That way it’s a nice constant.”

Enjolras shook his head. “You’re not very sly you know. You want me to get it for Grantaire.”

“All I’m saying is that there is a lovely pale green shirt I have in mind that would suit it and perfectly. You made that distinction all by yourself.”

“Not a word to anyone Prouvaire, I mean it.” Enjolras said as he beckoned over the stall owner and bought the small pin, blushing as Jehan watched him shove it into his satchel. “Come on, you can help me buy him some clothes. “

“What is his size?” 

“He fits into my clothes just fine, but he’s a little taller. Maybe an inch or two. Closer to two. He’s also more muscular.”

“Alright.” Jehan chuckled, and led Enjolras to the little tailor’s that they traded with, and by the time they came out, Enjolras was certain he’d bought back all the fabric they’d ever sold the man. Jehan helped him carry the full bags around the streets while he bought fresh food for the house, and other things that they thought Grantaire would need, including another bottle of the antiseptic Combeferre prescribed him and some clean bandages. By the time they got to the house, they were both ready to collapse, but persevered up the path to the front door. When they entered, Jehan helped Enjolras carry everything to Enjolras’ room, and then left to go to the local bar and relax with their friends for the first time in months. Enjolras thanked him on his way out, and sat down on his bed, before he saw steam coming from his small bathroom and got up to look inside curiously. 

Grantaire it seems, had decided to take a hot bath in Enjolras’ copper bath tub, on the advise of Courfeyrac no doubt. It seemed that Grantaire had not herd him or Jehan because he looked utterly content. Enjolras knew he shouldn’t look but couldn’t help but stare at Grantaire’s tanned, muscular frame glistening. His curly hair was half wet, some strands sticking to his face, which was calm and relaxed. His eyes were closed and his cheeks slightly red in the heat of the steam and Enjolras found him captivating. He then let out a short gasp, letting his head fall back against the tub and Enjolras tilted his head curiously at the scene. He then released that the water was moving in slow waves along with Grantaire’s right arm beneath it. At the realization that Grantaire was pleasuring himself, Enjolras felt his cheeks go warm. Then a second later, when Grantaire shifted and gasped out Enjolras’ name, he thought he’d been caught, but when he noticed Grantaire not looking at him, realized that he was thinking about Enjolras. The blonde put a hand over his mouth to try to cover his surprised gasp, but was too late it seemed, because Grantaire’s eyes snapped open to meet Enjolras’ at the sound. They both looked at each other for a second, shocked, and then Enjolras noticed Grantaire moving his arm so that it looked less like he’d been doing what he’d been doing. Enjolras hadn’t been in that situation before, so did the only thing he could think of doing. He bolted to his room and threw himself face first into his bed.

“I’m really sorry,” Enjolras heard the panicked voice from the doorway and turned to see Grantaire, with a towel around his waist looking at him guiltily, “please don’t kick me out. I know that you don’t think of me that way and you were just being nice to me, and I’m a pervert and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“Shh, it’s alright.” Enjolras got up from the bed and walked up to Grantaire. He then leaned forward and kissed him chastely and pulled back with a smile. “Not the most romantic first kiss I’ll give you , but not the worst I’m sure.” He lent down and took off his boots and socks, then his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Grantaire asked.

“I don’t want you to feel awkward in just a towel. I am a gentleman.” He said, taking off his trousers, leaving him in his undergarments. “Turn around.”

“Seriously?” Enjolras gave him an unimpressed glare. “Fine. I’ll close my eyes.” He did as he said and wasn’t allowed to look until Enjolras pulled off his towel. He felt self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of the blonde, but didn’t let it show. Enjolras cautiously moved closer to Grantaire and leaned up slightly to kiss him, so their chests were pressed together. Grantaire put his hands in Enjolras’ hair as the kiss deepened. They slid together because of the water and Grantaire couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Enjolras moved away from the kiss and smiled giddily at Grantaire, then ducked down to Grantaire’s neck to place soft kisses while the hand that wasn’t holding him trailed down Grantaire’s chest. He found Grantaire’s pulse point and bit down lightly, before sucking and making Grantaire tip his head back and whisper, “Enjolras,” breathlessly. Enjolras smirked as he kissed his way back up to Grantaire’s face and then leaned back.

“You’re not a pervert, and I’m not going to kick you out. And yes I do think of you that way.” He made a confused face then that was too innocent for the situation. “Who wouldn’t?” 

“Do you want the list alphabetized or-“ Enjolras cut him off with a firm kiss. “What was that for?”

“You were being stupid, and it was preferable to shouting at you.”

“At least we can agree on that.”

“You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

“What?”

“We’ve been in close quarters for two days and I’ve hardly spoken to you. I know I have a busy schedule, but I would make time for you. I was going to talk to you yesterday, but you disappeared for half of the day, I’m assuming, to stay away from me. We need to talk about that.”

“We definitely do not need to talk about that.”

“Grantaire, you need to be able to talk about it, so that I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help. We do not need to talk about anything!”

“Yes we do. Don’t be petulant.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Enjolras huffed and grabbed Grantaire’s arms, leading him to the bed as he did so, then pushed the black-haired man down onto his back and straddled him. “I’m not moving until you tell me why you were avoiding me. I’ll stay here for the rest of the day if I have to.”

Grantaire took a few breaths to try to distract himself from a lapful of naked Enjolras and tried to focus on the conversation. “I just… I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.” Enjolras crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Is this some kind of joke? If this is another interrogation technique it’s not going to work.”

“You think I’m using you?” 

“Of course you’re using me! At least be honest about it.”

“Grantaire I’m not… Do you truly believe I’d use this against you?”

“Do I believe a thieving, murdering pirate would pretend to want a disgustingly stupid drunkard and apparently gullible navy officer to get valuable and useful information? Yes I do.”

Enjolras frowned and leaned down to kiss the other man, but Grantaire moved his face away. “Don’t do this. It’s not like that.”

“That is exactly what it’s like and I was stupid to have at any point believed otherwise. There you have it, I believed. I believed in you. Here I was thinking you’re a great, influential leader, and you’re just a sham. You’re just like the rest of them. The world isn’t made for people like me, and I was going to let you convince me I had a place so that you could just throw it back in my face later and you know the worst part? I would still let you. I still believe that you can do it. That’s how fucked up I am.” 

Enjolras took Grantaire’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. “You have a place, Grantaire. I don’t know how, but I will make sure you know it. What did they do to you?” Grantaire snatched his hand back and pushed Enjolras off of him to the side of the bed, quickly pulling Enjolras’ shirt on after. He swung his legs over the side and was about to get up when he felt Enjolras’ arms around his waist. “I won’t make fun of you.” He placed a small kiss to the back of Grantaire’s neck. “Just tell me, and we can work through this together.” 

“If you want to know so badly then fine, I’ll show you.” He sighed and took of the shirt again, wincing at the sound of Enjolras’ surprised and disgusted ‘oh my god’ behind him when he saw the red, angry looking scars spelling out the word ‘sodomite’ across his lower back. “I never used to drink obsessively before I joined the navy. I was just average. I used to be an artist, sold my work on the street for money. I didn’t earn much, but I was happy. My father didn’t approve of course, but I didn’t care at the time, I thought that there was nothing he could have done to possibly mess up what I had going. Then he had me evicted from my flat because he knew the owner, but I found a new home with a group of people. It didn’t cost much, but then it wasn’t very nice so I wouldn’t expect it would. I continued to paint, because it was the only thing that I could do to let out my frustration because the world just isn’t fair, but maybe if I had that, if I had my art, there was just that little bit of fairness left. Boy, was I wrong. My father decided that it wasn’t enough for me to be evicted because living with a group of strangers as low a they were was embarrassing to the family name. He…” Grantaire suddenly felt an unwelcome wave of sadness, and choked on his words as some tears came to his eyes. Enjolras got up and stood in front of him, then made Grantaire stood up and held him close in a tight embrace. 

“What did he do?”

“He came over to the street one day as I was selling a painting and told everyone what I was. Nobody would buy my paintings after that, either because I was gay or because I was a rich little brat who should have made his money elsewhere. I didn’t belong with the poor, nor the rich and I got kicked out again but this time nowhere would accept me. My father found me on the street and told me that if I behaved myself I could have a position in the navy. If I stopped embarrassing him and being ridiculous then he could get a job for me, and it was the best job someone like me could get and that was only because I was his son. When I joined, nobody knew, and it was okay at first. Then one night me and the sailors got drunk and I… I told them why I didn’t want to fuck one of the prostitutes at the inn. I didn’t think anything of it until we got back to the ship and three of them held me down while the other two carved into my lower back with my heated glasses wire.” Enjolras felt his own tears start to form as Grantaire sobbed. “I could feel every letter. Then they got a bucket of salt-water and poured it over the word and I felt like my skin was burning. They never did treat me right after that. I had to wear layers and layers of clothing out of fear that people would see it through anything too thin. They would beat me up on a regular basis then force alcohol in me so that it looked like my own fault, so those who didn’t hate me for being gay hated me for being a weak willed, pathetic alcoholic. Nobody talked to me, or laughed with me. They certainly didn’t dance with me.” He gave a watery laugh. “And what was I to do? I couldn’t paint anymore so I turned into the thing everyone thought I was anyway, a drunk.”

Enjolras held Grantaire while he let out the emotion he’d been holding in for too long and when he was done, Enjolras kissed him soundly. “I went shopping.”

Grantaire smiled and chuckled a little. “That’s an odd response.”

“It’s done now.” Enjolras said seriously. “You don’t have to do this alone, and we don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but I’m glad you told me.” He smiled at Grantaire reassuringly and kissed him quickly again then picked up the bags from the other side of the bed and deposited them in front of Grantaire. “There’s about 12 bags of clothes for you there from yours truly, but Jehan said you have to wear the clothes in the red bag for tonight.” As he spoke he went to the wardrobe and Grantaire watched the naked man walk with effortless grace. He watched Enjolras pull out a new outfit and put it on as he spoke. “We’re all going to the Musain, a little inn near the harbor that we frequent on our days off. We’re going to have a good time and people are going to be drinking I warn you, but me you, and Courfeyrac are having water because we won’t let you deal with this alone, Courfeyrac is also a recovering alcoholic, and he’s much better than he was. When that’s finished you and I will come back here with everyone else, because believe it or not, it is a shared mansion. Then, after you’ve got the extended tour of the property from our very own Courf, we’ll retire to OUR bedroom.” When he got his shirt fully buttoned, he walked to Grantaire and put his face in his hands and leaned in for a slow and passionate kiss, which left Grantaire’s head reeling when Enjolras pulled back. “There will be some people there that you don’t know yet, but don’t be afraid of them. I’ll be there with you.”

“I’m not a child, you know?” Grantaire said, smiling.

“I’m trying to be comforting.”

“I would stick to patronizing and arrogant. Suits you more.” Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“Just get ready and meet me at the front door, I’ll be waiting.”

“Why are we going now?”

“Grantaire you didn’t wake up until 1 in the afternoon and I’ve been shopping all day while you’ve been making yourself at home. It’s seven o’clock the night is young, get ready and let me show you off already I’m tired of waiting.”

Grantaire laughed and picked up the red bag, at which Enjolras smiled and turned away and went out the door, smiling as he did so. He’d never dealt with a situation like this before, but for Grantaire he’d try, because he certainly deserved it. Enjolras’ heart was racing at the excitement coursing through him at the fact that his boldness had paid off. It wasn’t like him to be so forward with his desires, but he seemingly couldn’t help himself any longer. Something about seeing Grantaire so vulnerable and hurt the night before made Enjolras realize he never wanted to see the man in pain again, would do anything to stop it in fact. He had known he felt something for the other man but it was foreign and strange and quite frankly it scared him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was broken out of his thoughts of the other man when he heard the bedroom door open…


	7. The Bar

“What?” Grantaire asked, looking down at himself self-consciously. He smoothed his hands over the green blazer and waistcoat to get rid of any creases. Enjolras just kept looking at him with something akin to wonder in his eyes.

“You look amazing.” Enjolras said. “Come down here.” Grantaire followed the order quickly, and was by Enjolras’ side in record time. Enjolras smiled at how eager the other man was, and placed a small kiss on his cheek, then put on his satchel and held Grantaire’s hand. “You make me look like such a commoner.”

“That’s the difference between you and I, Dear. You don’t need fancy clothes to look better than anyone you stand next to.”

“You stop that now.” Enjolras said, squeezing Grantaire’s hand as he lead them out of the house, before letting go to the lock the door and lacing their fingers again after, so he could pull Grantaire down the path and out onto the streets. 

As they were walking, Grantaire was surprised to find people not directing their gazes to the interlinked hands of the men, but mostly at his outfit. A few people even asked where he got it and how much it cost, to which Enjolras responded for him saying it was ‘one of a kind’ and ‘priceless’ like Grantaire, which had make him shake his head and smile. It made him surprised and taken aback that the strangers Enjolras talked to like this laughed with him and some even agreed, but none of them made fun of them or said cruel things. He thought they would at first, and squeezed Enjolras’ hand hard, but then let go of some of the bone crushing pressure when people were unexpectedly kind and if Enjolras felt like his hand had been half crushed in a vice, well he was kind enough himself not to mention it. 

By the time they made it to the bar, Grantaire was sure he was the happiest he’d ever been in his life. Enjolras lead them to a gathering of tables in the corner, where the crew and some other people that he didn’t know yet sat. The thought of ‘yet’ made his heart jump because he still couldn’t believe it. People liked him, wanted to be around him, saved a seat for him next to Enjolras! Everyone greeted him who knew him and when he sat down, there was a pint of ale that was immediately put in front of him by a brunette woman who smiled politely at him. “First ones on the house.” She winked.

Enjolras brushed his thumb over the back of Grantaire’s hand as he spluttered out a dumb thank you. “Calm down,” he said to Grantaire quietly, “I know it’s a bit overwhelming but I’m here. I’ll be your anchor.” 

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Sea references? On our first date? You’re terrible.”

“That’s just a matter of opinion.”

“And arrogant.”

Enjolras shrugged. Grantaire looked around him at the pleasant atmosphere that had settled amongst his new crew, and couldn’t keep the content smile from his face. He was sat between Enjolras and an empty space on a table made for six, with Feuilly and Bahorel opposite them. Enjolras and Feuilly were talking pleasantly about some sort of new plan for the ship when Grantaire decided to ungracefully interrupt. “I want to apologize.” He blurted out. The three men at the table stopped and looked at him.

“Whatever for?” Feuilly asked, concerned. He then reached over the table and put his hand gently over Grantaire’s. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I ran away when you were being nice because I thought you were mocking me or were going to at least. I shouldn’t have assumed that about you, and I’m sorry.”

“We wouldn’t purposely try to hurt you. Speaking of you hurting how are you today? You were quite out of it yesterday.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Feuilly nodded and took his hand away so he could take a sip of his drink. It was just then that a young couple sat in the remaining two seats of the table, a beautiful blonde to Enjolras’ left and opposite her a young short-haired, freckled brunette, who spoke to Enjolras.

“It’s been a while, Enjolras, who is this?” All attention was on Grantaire now, and he shifted nervously. 

“This is Grantaire.”

“You’ve got to stop picking up strays.”

“If I didn’t pick up strays neither you nor Cosette would be here and I’d thank you kindly to remember that.” He snapped.

“I was kidding.” Marius said, holding up his hands defensively. There was a small awkward pause and then Marius’ eyes widened and he pointed an accusing finger at Enjolras. “If you brought him back from land that means you’ve only known him for two days, three at the most.” Grantaire watched Enjolras’ face quickly change to one of realization then annoyance then resignation. “And you’re holding his hand!” Grantaire winced and tried to pull his hand way but Enjolras held it tighter and continued rubbing his thumb in circles against his skin. “You can’t tease me about Cosette anymore!”

“It’s not the same thing we actually talked-“

“Oh no you’re not getting away with that.”

“I’m not waxing poetical about him and letting my…” Enjolras made a pained noise and said the next word slowly, “feelings for him get in the way of my work.”

A stray laugh carried across the room that Grantaire recognized as distinctly Combeferre-like. “Enjolras are you being serious?” Combeferre asked incredulously. “I haven’t heard you give any of us one direction in two full days of sailing, and you haven’t even glanced at the schedules Courf stole. You even tried to skip lunch so you wouldn’t have to confront it!”

“And,” Came the traitorous shout of Jehan. “You did give a very passionate speech to me about how brilliant he was, so in fact you were just as bad as Marius!” He finished, laughing with his other crew mates. Enjolras frowned and blushed.

“Aww what’s wrong Enjy? Has the big bad pirate Captain fallen in love?” 

“Shut up!” Enjolras said, cheeks almost glowing red. 

A collective ‘aww’ was given across the bar, while Grantaire just averted his gaze from everybody uncomfortably. Enjolras noticed this and put his free hand on Grantaire’s cheek then turned his face and kissed him. It was a simple press of lips, nothing too passionate, but not lacking in affection and reassurance. They smiled at each other and the teasing died down until people were just talking amongst themselves again. After a while they were all back to laughing and joking and having a good time. Grantaire had learned about Marius’ decision to stay home and be with Cosette rather than go to sea when they had been through a particularly brutal attack. Enjolras had teased him about the weakness of love ever since, and now he quickly shut his mouth when the opportunity came up to jest about it. It made Grantaire smile knowing Enjolras had given up that teasing for him. Grantaire was mid conversation with Bahorel when a little boy ran into the bar and went straight to Enjolras and tugged on his sleeve.

“What is it Gavroche?” 

“There’s a man on the beach. He’s one of them navy types with the big red jackets. I was collecting shells to make something for ‘Ponine and he caught me and asked me where he could fine Grantaire, but I said I didn’t know. He told me to tell everyone I know that he’s willing to give a royal pardon to anyone who will bring forth the traitor Grantaire.” Gavroche said quickly.

Everyone in the bar had gone quiet to listen to the boy speak and they all looked at Enjolras for the solution. Enjolras felt his world stop for a minute and then realized everyone was expecting him to say something, and Grantaire was next to him, holding his hand, needing to be protected and he was just one person. In the silence, Enjolras’ heavy and quick breaths could be heard as he looked around at his crew and his vision started to blur. He stood up abruptly, letting go of Grantaire and tried to walk out of the bar but had to stop not two steps from his seat to lean heavily on the table, still dizzy and breathing too quickly. He heard distant voices and felt someone hold his wrist and he saw the clear light blue of Grantaire’s eyes and that’s the last thing he remembered before he fell forward onto something soft and passed out.


	8. Deal

“Enjolras?” Combeferre asked worriedly as the man fell onto him. “Oh no. No no no. Bahorel-“

“Got it.” Bahorel said, already knowing what was required of him. He stood up and picked Enjolras up bridal style, before following Combeferre back to the house. 

Grantaire didn’t know what was happening and sat still for a moment, trying to understand when he felt a gentle pat on his elbow and looked down to find the small boy, Gavroche looking at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to go after him? He’s only fainted, he does that sometimes. He’s always okay though don’t worry. Come with me I’ll take you back.” Grantaire nodded and followed Gavroche back to the house, after grabbing the satchel Enjolras left behind, where everyone had now ended up. They were all sitting in the living room, but Enjolras was nowhere to be seen, and he was about to ask, before Combeferre came over to him and lead him to Enjolras’ bedroom where he was laid on the bed peacefully. 

“Will he be alright?”

“Yes. He used to do this all the time. After so many days without sleep his body starts to shut down and he over exerts himself until he can’t take it any more. Either that or… You have to understand that what he does has an impact on him mentally. Sometimes it’s all a bit much and he starts to panic. Usually we can help him out but so many things have been pressing on him in such a small space of time that he just lost control of himself, I think. We all do what we can but that’s just who he is. He puts so much pressure on himself to do everything perfectly and he just needs to be able to accept help sometimes.”

“I’m sure he can learn to do that.”

“You would think, but for as intelligent he is, he is just as stubborn.”

“Yes, I can see that being the case.”

Combeferre smiled. “We thought it best you be the one to wake up with him this time. I can stay if you like?”

“No, it’s alright I’ll look after him.”

“Grantaire? Thank you.” Grantaire smiled as Combeferre hugged him. “You’re good for him. He may be cruel to you sometimes, but he can’t help it. Please remember that.” Combeferre pulled away and headed towards the door and said just before he left, “Oh, when he wakes up, come tell us. We’ll be down stairs discussing what to do about Javert. Don’t worry about it, okay? We won’t let him take you away, and Enjolras certainly won’t either,” and then he was out of the door, closing it behind him as he joined the others. 

Grantaire moved towards the bed and when he got there laid beside Enjolras and held his hand, then relaxed and closed his eyes, seeing no sense in just staring at him until he woke up. 

A couple of hours later he felt his hand twitch and looked over to find Enjolras shifting around. “Are you okay?”

“We were at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“Gavroche… we have to do something.”

“Easy there, you just woke up. Combeferre is talking to your friends about it now, he told me to tell you not to worry.”

“How can I not worry? You’ve only just got here and they’re trying to take you away, I thought we had more time to run, to think, to-“ Enjolras was cut off by a quick peck on his lips.

“Calm down.” Enjolras nodded and got up slowly, still in the clothes he’d passed out in. “Lets go downstairs. We should help with the Javert situation.” He picked up the satchel that he noticed on the floor near the bed then he walked towards the door then opened it and waited until Grantaire shuffled out before him. When they reached the front room, everyone let out a relieved sigh and Combeferre hugged Enjolras quickly, before Joly and Bossuet took him in their arms. “Honestly, I’m alright it’s not like it’s the first time.” He said fondly.

Bossuet laughed. “You looked like you needed some reassurance and happiness because you were wearing ‘the frown’.”

“Yeah, and we have joy going spare so we thought if we encompassed you, you’d have no choice but to be happy… Also this way I could discretely feel your temperature and good news you’re fine.” Joly said, smiling. Grantaire stood to the side feeling out of place in the small familial display. Joly noticed this and pulled him forward too, while Bossuet moved to hug Grantaire too. “You looked a little lonely over there ‘Taire.”

“I was good but thank you anyway.” Enjolras met his eyes and they shared an amused glance before Enjolras gently pushed the two clinging men off of him.

“We need to confront this issue, and by this issue I mean Javert. The men on this island don’t know who Grantaire is yet, and we must keep it that way until we have driven the naval captain away, because these men though our own are not trustworthy. They care not for-“

“Enjolras you need rest.” Combeferre interrupted. 

“Not right now, Combeferre. I need to do something about this situation before-“

“Keep Grantaire hidden until Javert goes away, got it. We can do that.” Bahorel chimed in.

“He’s not just going to go away, he’s the personification of diligence he’ll stop at nothing-“

“It’s not like we’ve done something that bad. We haven’t killed anybody, just kidnapped one. And stole a years worth of schedules.” Courfeyrac spoke.

“Yeah that’s not so bad.” Joly agreed. “It won’t be long before something else sets him off and then he’ll forget about us.”

“But what about when he remembers? You’re not taking this seriously enough!” Enjolras shouted, startling his friends into silence. “If we don’t do something about this as efficiently and quickly as possible, we could loose Grantaire and that is something I am not even remotely willing to consider!” He slammed a fist on he table at this point. “If we have to give him back everything then we do it. Courf get me those schedules. I’m giving them back to him right now.” He moved to Courfeyrac and stumbled with a little lightheadedness but held himself up with a tight grip on Bossuet’s arm, who was still very close to him. He then stood up by himself and strode to Courfeyrac. “Go and get them. Now.”

“Enjolras we can do it tomorrow you need to have-“

“It’s morning, I’ve had a night’s rest. Come on!” He shouted then hissed and winced a little when he felt a sharp pain behind his eye but ignored it. “Fine.” He said, frustrated when nobody moved. He stepped forward and felt his knee wobble under his weight but continued walking then running until he was out of the living room and heading towards his office, and once he was inside, he closed the door and locked it, then rummaged through all of the papers brought from the ship until he found them, and held them up triumphantly, ignoring the knocks on the door and concerned shouts.

Outside the door Courfeyrac was trying to get him to come out and talk about it. “Come on, Enjolras. We can figure all of this out together, you’re worrying everyone. Grantaire is beside himself.”

“I just need some time to think Courf. Please leave me alone.” He just didn’t understand what Enjolras was thinking but he would soon, and he was only doing this for the good of Grantaire anyway.

“Alright.” Courfeyrac said in a defeated tone. “We’re just downstairs when you’re ready.”

After waiting for the sound of Courfeyrac’s retreating footsteps, Enjolras put his hand in his bag and picked out the small pin he had bought for Grantaire and put it on the table, just in case he couldn’t get back in time. Knowing that there was no way he was getting out of the door without being harassed, he simply stood up and opened up the high window and climbed out, landing ungracefully in a rosebush. He got up too quickly and it sent a rush of dizziness to him that almost made him fall over but he continued through sheer force of will. Why couldn’t the rest of them understand how simple the solution was? All he had to do was get these papers to Javert and it would all be over. He was fine, or he would last at least until he got back. Honestly, they needn’t have worried at all.

He straightened his posture and walked from the house to the beach in around an hour and a half, having to stop every now and again to pull himself together. He could do this, he could help Grantaire. None of them thought he could, but he needed to prove them wrong. What kind of a Captain couldn’t protect his own crew mates? By the time he reached the navy camp on the sand, he had convinced himself he was absolutely fine and stood straight and proud as he walked into the largest tent with surprisingly little resistance. Inside sat Captain Javert at a table, and for a few moments they simply looked at each other. 

“Captain Javert.”

“Captain Enjolras.”

“Just Enjolras actually.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure, just Enjolras?”

Enjolras moved forward and put the papers on Javert’s desk. “I believe you’re looking for these. I would propose you take them and go before you find conflict here.”

“Why should you care what conflict I find? You’re the reason I’m here in the first place, no? I care not for the papers, I want the traitor Grantaire.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. If you have these schedules, you have my officer.” Javert motioned to his guards that immediately knocked Enjolras forward to his knees, which sent another wave of pain to his head and the quick motion and made him sway until he grounded himself by planting his hands on the floor too.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Javert stood up and walked to Enjolras then lifted his head up by his hair.

“That’s fine. We’ll take you instead and call off the hunt for the other man. You’re more of a danger to the world than he’ll ever be. Deal?” Enjolras nodded silently and let himself be dragged off by guards and found himself in a damp ship cell after not too long. His head was spinning at being pushed and pulled by the guards and he had to sit down on the cold, hard wooden floor. He leaned his head against the wall and started to consider that this was possibly not the best course of action when something on the wall caught his eye. He sat up and ran a hand over an etching in the wood that was just one of many little drawings carved into the side, and by the looks of the details, they had taken a long time to do. Enjolras immediately felt sympathy for anyone who was down there before him for that long. Somewhere around each drawing there was a little capital R that Enjolras never understood, but was sure he’d have enough time to contemplate. 

…………………………………

By the time the door was pushed through, Enjolras was long gone. Courfeyrac looked behind the desk and in both cupboards before he noticed the open window and crushed bushed beneath. “Shit. Combeferre, he’s gone to Javert!”

Combeferre took a deep breath and started to keep a calm tone. “He can’t have gone far in at most two hours. Come on, if we run we’ll be able to get him.” He immediately took off with Courfeyrac in tow, worry controlling him completely. 

The two were out of the door and heading towards the beach before either could explain anything very well leaving the others with a quick, “Enjolras, Schedules, Javert.” Grantaire tried to follow but was stopped by Jehan’s hand on his arm.

“You need to keep a level head alright?” Grantaire nodded. “I don’t think it’s best you go back there. Enjolras wouldn’t want that and he wants you to be safe. Come on, he might have left an explanation that Courf and Ferre overlooked in their panic of his absence.” Jehan then led Grantaire to Enjolras’ office while the other crew members darted after Courfeyrac and Combeferre. After a few minutes of searching drawers and the desk top it was clear they weren’t going to find anything, until Grantaire saw a little green pin on the table resembling a little diamond flower. He picked it up gently and turned it over a few times in his hands.

“Oh no…” Grantaire saw Jehan looking at him and hastily put it down.

“I wasn’t going to steal it I just wanted to see it better.”

“No that’s not it.” Jehan picked it up again and put it in Grantaire’s hands. “He bought this for you. He’s not… He’s not sure he’s going to be able to make it back. That’s why he left it, just in case he couldn’t give it to you in person.”

“We have to save him! He’s going to have done something heroically stupid as per usual!” This time, Jehan was not quick enough to stop Grantaire bolting out of the door and straight to the beach, running frantically the entire way and meeting up with the crew on the beach where they were behind a small cabin, looking for Enjolras but to no avail. “Grantaire?” Feuilly asked quietly, pulling him into their hiding spot. “Why are you here?” In lieu of an answer, he simply got himself out of Feuilly’s grip and ran straight to Javert’s tent. 

“Let him go. Take me and let him go.”

“Actually we came to quite an agreeable arrangement. I don’t need you anymore.”

“What?”

“His life for yours, seems agreeable. Would you like an invitation to his hanging. It is your right especially considering it will be your doing. Thank you ever so much for your help in the capture of such a deviant, Officer.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Actually I can.”

“Grantaire!” The black haired man turned to the sound of his name being called and found his new crew being dragged to the ship he loathed. He turned to run to them but was restrained by an officer. 

“I don’t think so, Grantaire. What did you think was going to happen? You and your little friends could come here and beat us? The odds are far against you this time. You’ll never see them again, because they’re getting shipped and hanged. I do hope you can attend we must catch up some time.” Javert said, then stood and patted Grantaire before getting his men to cuff him to a tree facing the ship and gagging him so he had to watch his only friends in the world be led to their death.

When Jehan found him, his eyes were bloodshot and his throat hurt from screaming protests, and his hands and wrists were covered in blood from where he tried to escape his binds. When Jehan picked the locks, Grantaire threw himself into the others’ arms and sobbed, while his back was stroked soothingly. “They’ve taken them all and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Everything will be okay.”

“Why does everything I touch turn to shit?” He grasped onto Jehan’s shirt tightly.

“That’s not true. Come on, we’ll figure this out.” He said as he put his arm around Grantaire and walked him back to the house. When they got there, Gavroche was sat in the armchair in the living room, and Marius and Cosette were on the couch. “Well? Where is everybody?”

Jehan gave Marius a sympathetic glance. “We need a plan.”


	9. The End

Enjolras was shaken awake quite violently and when he opened his eyes he was met with a dim light from a lantern that was illuminating the concerned face of Combeferre. “Morning?” Enjolras went for, clearly the wrong answer. His head hurt and his arms ached but he couldn’t remember why, then he took a glance around and it came back to him. “God, no. You weren’t supposed to come I had everything under control.”

“Sure looks like it.”

“No, I did. I was going to negotiate because every man has a price, and we all know-“

“You’ve already been sentenced. As soon as this ship docks in France you, and us, are going be hanged.”

Enjolras sat up, eyes wide and looked around the groggy cellar, now noticing the other men around him. The pain he had felt earlier had dulled significantly and his head was much clearer to his own stupidity. “I never meant for this to happen I’m so sorry. You’re all in danger because of me, I lead you here.”

Combeferre sighed and put and arm around Enjolras’ shoulders. “You lead us to freedom. Javert led us to captivity. You showed us a life worth living, and I’d rather have lived this half short life of adventure and righteousness than a full life of disappointment, pain and fear. You liberated us and we could never pay you back enough for that.” There were murmurs of agreement.

“I messed up. I can’t believe this. We need a plan.”

“What do you propose we do, hm?” Combeferre asked, sitting back against the wooden wall next to Enjolras and hitting his head against it. “There’s no way you can get out of this one, Enj. We’re already two hours into the journey, which means that even if we got out, we’d have nowhere to go, not all of us. We’ve been caught out.”

“You can’t believe that.” Enjolras felt his stomach drop further when no one else disputed Combeferre’s argument. “There has to be an answer.”

“There isn’t.”

Enjolras sat in silence, wallowing in pity until a guard came in for a routine check and he had an idea. He quickly turned to Combeferre and got in his lap. “Do not tell Grantaire.” He said and before Combeferre had a chance to respond, Enjolras’ lips were on his. There was a loud banging as the guard hit his gun off the bars when he noticed them.

“Hey! Break it up!” Enjolras ignored him, pressing small closed mouthed kissed to Combeferre’s face as chastely as he could manage. This riled up the guard, who pulled out his keys and opened up the prison gate then grabbed Enjolras by the back of his neck and pulled him from Combeferre, who understood instantly and tackled the guard to the ground, knocking him out by hitting his head on the floor. When he and Enjolras got up and looked around at their friends, Enjolras sighed. “I’m sorry that I dragged you all into this. I should have foreseen his unwillingness to operate fairly and my ignorance has landed us here.”

“That’s not your fault, Enjy.” Courfeyrac said.

“You can’t help but see the good in people, it’s no fault in you and we don’t judge you for it.” Feuilly supplied from beside Courfeyrac. 

In another cell, Joly’s voice was heard. “You were just trying to keep everyone safe, but you need to know that we’re not here to hinder you Enjolras, we just want to help and if we couldn’t or didn’t want to we wouldn’t be part of your crew.”

Enjolras nodded as he took the keys from the guard and let his friends out.

“What now?” Asked Bossuet.

“Now we wait.” Replied Enjolras. “Someone will come to check on him soon enough, and then someone else and then someone else. We gather their weapons, we put them in the cells and then we attack. Simple. We’ll even have a nice head start. Come on people we do this for a living.” He said casually, and the crew nodded.

“It’s good…” Said Combeferre. “But what if we’re underestimating them? What if they figure this out far sooner? Javert is obviously very militarily capable he caught us in only three days.”

“You’re right.” Enjolras realized. “The supplies. They have to be somewhere under here, don’t they? Courfeyrac-“

“You want me to dress up in that guys uniform and get them don’t you? I saw the thought flutter across your mind. God, why is it always me?”

“You’re a very good actor.” Enjolras shrugged. Courfeyrac grinned.

“For a compliment you know I’ll do anything. Strip him, hand me the clothes.” As he said it, he was already divesting himself of his clothing, much to the annoyance of everyone else if the groans and everyone turning away were anything to go by. “Unlike Enjolras, I have no such reservations of shame, and you all have to get used to it eventually.”

“We are used to it, doesn’t mean we have to like it.” Combeferre said, amused.

“Say what you like but I know you love it. Besides you ungrateful arseholes this is all for your benefit. Do you see what I have to go through? Blue is so not my colour!” Courfeyrac winked to him as Combeferre handed over the guard’s uniform and he got redressed quickly as he could before heading out of the room and coming back around 15 minutes later, while the rest of his friends waited anxiously for his return. When he got back, he quickly ushered them down a long hallway and turned them left and down some stairs then few a through more hallways and rooms until they reached the unguarded ammo reserve. “I can’t believe they’re so arrogant as to leave it unprotected. You’re right about these people Enjolras.”

“You thought I’d be wrong?” 

“There’s the Enjolras we know and love.”

“Shut up and grab some weapons we’re about to commit a mutiny.”

 

……………………………………

 

Grantaire paced up and down nervously while Jehan sat on the arm chair opposite Eponine bouncing his leg up and down, both of them grumbling and staring at the floor.

“He’s in so much trouble when this is over…” Grantaire said.

“I’m too delicate for this. I’m a good person, why must the world make me suffer…” Jehan added, though not in response because they were both in their own worlds. Eponine had had enough. 

“Alright! Stop!” he shouted, standing up, causing both of the other men to look at her. ”You’re driving me insane and panicking isn’t doing anyone any good, is it?”

“Well do you propose we do? We don’t know their course, and we’re outnumbered, so even if we did get on board, we’d have no chance what so ever!” Grantaire said.

“You know the ship and the men, right?” Eponine asked.

“Yes, but that’s completely irrelevant. There’s three of us. Four including the child for God’s sake.”

“We just need to gather a crew that’s all. Get a crew and get a ship to harbor in France, and then do what we did with Courfeyrac.”

“Brilliant, truly, but can you just answer me one thing? How are we going to pull off the kidnapping of an entire pirate crew from underneath guarded court house? It’s impossible.”

“Not impossible.” Jehan piped up. “Just extremely improbable.”

Grantaire sighed and sat down on Eponine’s vacated chair, and put his head in his hands. “I’ve fucked everything up.” Jehan’s heart broke at the defeated tone. “I’m so sorry.”

Jehan sat on the arm of the chair and put a comforting hand on Grantaire’s arm. “None of this is your fault, Sweetheart. If we hadn’t stolen those schedules, none of us would be here right now. Come on,” he said, getting up, “we need to go and get a crew.” Jehan pulled Grantaire up and took Eponine’s arm in his, dragging both of them with him down to their docked ship, with Gavroche trailing behind. When they got there, Jehan got up on a small box with the help of Grantaire then shouted louder than Grantaire had thought possible from the delicate man. Jehan’s tone was firm and commanding and Grantaire knew not to underestimate him again. “My name is Jean Prouvaire, and I am a crew member under Captain Enjolras, who in fact liberated this land and all of those in it, including you. Every pirate, every merchant. And for what? Nothing. It was enough for him to watch you prosper in peace and now is your time to repay him. My Captain and my Crew have found themselves under the consequence of the law. Captain Javert has taken them captive and plans on having them hanged.” The audience Jehan had attracted shook their head and booed. “We are the only ones that can save them. This,” he pointed to Grantaire, “is the man who understands their military tactics and would like to enroll you immediately into his new crew. I will gladly remind you before you make a decision that without Enjolras, none of this would exist and if doesn’t continue fight the battles you don’t even know are happening you won’t be here for very long.” Needless to say a few hours later they were on course for France with a full crew, and Grantaire at the wheel. 

Grantaire had never Captained a ship before and was just about getting used to it, when there was a shout from Jehan that pulled him out of his distracted mulling. “Grantaire isn’t that your ship?” Grantaire whipped his head to the direction Jehan was pointing and blinked his eyes disbelievingly. Grantaire called for full sail, and was on them in mere hours, only to find the reason that the slip had slowed is because there was a battle happening on deck. He wasted no time in hooking up his own ship and helping to kill the men he once worked with alongside the men he pledged his life to. Once he started fighting, the adrenaline got to him and he found himself fighting with more strength than he thought he had. Over the floor, he could see fallen men from the navy, but not one of his own and looked around to find them all fighting to their best of their capabilities, which was damn good. Kind, loyal Joly was using a navy-issued gun to shoot anyone coming at him, with Bossuet at his back doing the same. Energetic, loving Courfeyrac was splattered with blood that wasn’t his and was helping a limping Feuilly out by holding him up while they both used their cutlasses against the onslaught. Nurturing, intelligent Combeferre was tying cloth around a wincing Bahorel’s and struggling as Bahorel continued to punch the life out of various other men’s faces. Grantaire’s own reinforcements swiftly joined the action too, and the navy was quickly being cut down. He then looked up to the top deck and saw Enjolras fighting with a very aggravated Javert and… losing? 

Grantaire made his way up deck and fought along side Enjolras, trying to help, but when Enjolras saw him, he froze, and stared and Grantaire disbelievingly. Grantaire tried to snap him out of it, but wasn’t in time to stop Javert’s aimed shot, so did the only thing he could do, and stepped in the way. 

Everything slowed down as he fell into Enjolras. Neither of them spared a second glance to Javert as they fell to the floor, Enjolras pushing Grantaire’s hair from his face. Not much time passed before there was distant cheering, but neither of them heard. Enjolras cradled Grantaire to his chest and kissed his hair.

“Enjolras…” he spoke quietly, but found he was short of breath very quickly.

“Shh. You’re doing so well Grantaire, you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, but Enjolras shook his head. There was silence around them now.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to do this by myself, I’m the one who should be sorry and I am. You can’t possibly imagine how sorry I am that I hurt you.”

Grantaire’s body shook as he felt a sharp pain from the bullet wound in his back that went straight through his shoulder. He grabbed Enjolras’ shirt in fear, not caring that both he and Enjolras were getting his blood everywhere. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Enjolras said, smiling and shifting to make Grantaire as comfortable as possible. He then leaned down and kissed Grantaire’s smiling face until Grantaire stopped kissing back and his body relaxed. “Grantaire?” Enjolras asked, tears already spilling over and into Grantaire’s clothes as he hugged his body closer. Combeferre was by their side in a matter of seconds, checking Grantaire’s pulse point then wrapping spare cloth around the bullet wound around his shoulder and back. 

“Enjolras I need you to let go so that I can treat him in the operation room. He might be alright if we carry him back to our ship. Come on.” Enjolras reluctantly got up and Combeferre and Bahorel carried him back to Combeferre’s surgery.

Enjolras leaned back on the ship’s edge then noticed Javert kneeling on the ground before one of Grantaire’s rouge pirates. He walked up to him and shook his head, decided that violence had got him nowhere and wasn’t going to get him anywhere now. Grantaire would not be pleased if he woke to find Enjolras had killed in his name. “Javert. We as a people do not aim to victimize your society. Quite the opposite in fact, we are a people of freedom and prosperity.” He heaved a sigh and swallowed the lump in his throat. “That man you just shot means more to me that any of this ever will. I didn’t want him to see this, to see the man I am behind the speeches, but you forced that upon me, and I cannot forgive that, but in his name I am going to show mercy. Take a rowboat, and the men you still have and please for the love of god leave us alone. You can have your schedules and your riches and your righteousness if you just leave.” Enjolras pulled Javert up and shook hands with the dumbstruck man. “But, so help me god, if he doesn’t make it through this…” Enjolras shook his head. “Don’t make enemies where they need not be, Javert.” Javert nodded and saluted Enjolras and both knew they had reached an agreement. He then walked away, ordering some of Grantaire’s pirates to give the two rowboats to Javert and his remaining crew, and joined his own crew on his own ship to wait for Grantaire.

 

……………………………

 

When Grantaire woke up, he was with Joly, whose eyes were wide at the stirring Grantaire, then got watery. “You’re awake.” 

“Well spotted.” He laughed weekly and got up, aching and in more pain than he had ever remembered being, but his strong will and desire to see Enjolras dragged him out of bed. “Take me to him Joly. Please.”

“You need to rest-“

“Please.” Joly cracked in sympathy and helped Grantaire limp down to the living room where everyone was sat talking and mulling around.

Grantaire made a beeline to Enjolras and slapped him as hard he could, then pulled him in for a kiss, then pushed him away. “How dare you? Who gave you the right to decide that my life was worth giving that up for? Giving them up for? You bastard!” Enjolras looked half way between crying and kissing Grantaire again, so Grantaire strode forward and made the decision for him, puling his face in and kissing him for all he was worth, with Enjolras’ hands circling his waist and pulling him closer as they shared their moment through the cheering of their friends. When they stopped, they rested their foreheads together and caught their breath, which is when Enjolras realized Grantaire was crying. “I thought I’d lost you.” He said quietly, and Enjolras’ heart ached at causing that pain. “I thought you were all gone, and that there was nothing I could do and it was my fault. I’m so mad at you right now, but I love you too.”

Enjolras pulled Grantaire closer to him and held him tightly. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. I didn’t want… I find it hard to accept help. I can’t… I just wanted you to be safe, to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing and I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for me and I would do anything to change that.”

“I wouldn’t. You said you loved me. I would get shot a thousand times for your love.”

“I loved you either way.”

Grantaire smiled, which made Enjolras side, which made Jehan coo. The whole room aww’d as they kissed again, but then Enjolras took Grantaire in his arms as his legs buckled. “I’ve been there.” He muttered. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Will you stay with me this time?”

“Yes.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Check out my tumblr for more enjoltaire ;): enjolrushed


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